About Break-ups, Friendzone, Pasta and Sparkly Underwear
by slovakia-chan
Summary: It's good to have two strong men watching over you. Even better if they ask for your opinion once in a while. A sequel to 'The Things I Did For Her'. I don't own Hetalia.
1. Chapter 1

_(A/N: As mentioned, this fanfic is a sequel to 'The Things I Did for Her'. It won't make much sense if read independently. I'll be trying to add some comments to refresh your memory, though._

 _There will be some historical facts in later chapters._

 _A quick reminder:_

 _Hynek = Czechia_

 _Eva = Slovakia_

 _Hynek's part of the story starts once Eva requests a break-up and leaves Prague (that is, early 1992). She refuses to talk to him, so he doesn't understand yet what is truly happening.)_

* * *

 **HYNEK**

She's _not_ gone. Of course she's not gone.

That was quite a storm, though. Not only in terms of weather. It must be that time of the month again.

Yes. She just needs to sulk a little bit. Like back when she was a kid. She'll come back any minute now. Look sheepish for a while, then cook a delicious dinner and make up with me. The divorce papers will end up in the fireplace.

* * *

 **Two Days Since She Left**

Not back yet.

* * *

 **Five Days Since She Left**

Nothing.

* * *

 **Ten Days Since She Left**

Still no news.

Except that she created her own flag and raised it over the Bratislava castle. What for?!

* * *

 **Two Weeks Since She Left**

Our boss called.

He enrolled me in a break-up support group. What a fool.

* * *

 **A Month** **Since She Left**

The support group was not bad, actually. They provided plenty of tips for everyday life, some free snacks and human warmth. What's more, I got to meet new people. Women. Single women eager to…

No. I shouldn't.

* * *

 **Two Months** **Since She Left**

I got kicked out of the support group for purposely sabotaging their efforts. Okay, I'm not proud of myself, either, but putting me on black list seems exaggerated. Although… well... replacing the counselor won't be easy, I have to give them that. By the way, she's among the members now.

The next day, my boss came for a visit. I opened the door, but he just stayed on the threshold, looking all around himself in horror. Indeed, I hadn't cleaned up much recently.

"I might have let myself go a little a bit…" I admitted sheepishly.

"Maybe you should do the army again."

I did not want to do the army again. I wanted to stay in my little house, not get up before six thirty and treat myself to a cold beer every evening. As a proof of my good will, I started to collect the clothes scattered all over the place and fold them, eyes still on him, counting on the memory of my fingers. But they seemed to have no memory of the piece I was holding. I raised it to realize it was one of Eva's dresses.

"What's that doing here?!" he almost snapped.

"I… well… I was looking for a clean shirt the other day and -"

He raised his hand to stop me. Then, he took a deep breath and said:

"Listen to me. You are going to find a box, put all of her stuff inside and have it shipped to Bratislava. Do you understand?"

I said nothing.

"Start _now_."

It was never a good idea to question him, but at that moment, I had to.

"It's just that… what if she gets back in the meantime?" I raised my point. He blinked a couple of times, looked me over, sighed, shook his head and left.

* * *

 **Three Months** **Since She Left**

Guess what! Upon my boss's pleading, Katyusha agreed to come over for a bit. That's great because it means she's not angry with me anymore. Even so, physically, she keeps her distance, making it very clear that trespassing will be prosecuted. She's pretty effective - she shops, cooks, cleans and does the laundry in exchange of some money. Everyone is happy.

I must _not_ sleep with her.

* * *

 **Three Months and Three Days** **Since She Left**

Out of clean clothes again. No more food, either. And, yes. I slept with Katya.

* * *

 **Three Months and Two Weeks** **Since She Left**

I did the laundry. It wasn't that difficult. Neither was the ironing. The real problem is food.

 _Come on, man. You can do this. You used to be an excellent cook. It's just that you haven't done it in such a long time. Fifty years, or so? Anyway, it's probably just like riding a bike!_

The fridge was empty, so were the cupboards. I started to make a list of ingredients for a garlic soup. She would make it often because she liked it. I didn't, I simply ate what was available… Hold on! _I_ am the cook now. And _I_ will cook what _I_ want. Let's start with something easy. Like Spaghetti Carbonara. Mmmm!

Today's Shopping List

-pasta

-cheese

-eggs

-bacon

Off to the shop now!

* * *

 **Three Months, Two Weeks and an Hour** **Since She Left**

 _What the hell?!_

I didn't recognize the place. The last time I'd been here, the shelves were basically empty. There used to be two kinds of cheese. Now, there were about fifty. Low fat, 50% fat, smoked, Polish, French, Greek, Scottish… same went for all the other ingredients. _Grrr. Looks like you need a degree to do the basic shopping nowadays._

Just when my head was about to drop in despair, a nice elderly couple appeared next to me. We started talking; a bit embarrassed, I explained about my predicament. They helped me pick the right products. Turned out they lived just around the corner. Before we parted ways, they invited me to come see them should I need further help. I thanked them, but doubted it would be necessary. I was a grown man doing some basic cooking - what could have possibly gone wrong?!

* * *

 **Three Months, Two Weeks and Three Hours** **Since She Left**

I realized I didn't know how to cook pasta. The package said ' _For Al Dente, boil for ten minutes'_. But how much spaghetti? In how much water? And who the hell is Al Dente?!

In the meantime, I'd eaten all the bacon. Better return to the shop and, on my way back, I'd stop at the elderly couple's house and ask for help.

* * *

 **Three Months, Two Weeks and Six Hours** **Since She Left**

The elderly were off, their daughter answered the door. I explained. She said I should come in, that she would teach me a thing or two.

Just as promised, I've learnt plenty of things that afternoon.

Today's Shopping List

-condoms

I still don't know how to cook pasta.

* * *

 **Three Months and Three Weeks** **Since She Left**

For crying out loud, let's finish with this nonsense. I'll just take a pot, fill it with water, let it boil and… wait, I have a better idea. A coffeemaker provides boiling water, doesn't it? So I just put the pasta inside and…

Today's Shopping List

-pasta

-coffeemaker

-fire extinguisher

-condoms (the firefighter was a hot brunette)

I _still_ don't know how to cook pasta.


	2. Chapter 2

_(A/N: Toris's part of the story starts in November 1989, the moment when Eva leaves Moscow for Prague (= fall of communism in Czechoslovakia). Seeing her go makes him realize she wasn't just a friend._

 _Laura = Belgium)_

* * *

 **TORIS**

She's gone. She's gone forever.

Well… maybe not forever. She's still alive. But somewhere far, far away. Too far from my arms. Out of my reach.

I can't recollect much of the months that followed; I lived on autopilot. Working. Eating. Sleeping. Eating. Working. Sleeping eating working eating working sleepingeatingworkingworking… Until, one morning, once I'd brought Ivan his tea, I went to get the mail. Raivis was sweeping the front porch and Eduard was just arriving with a bunch of groceries. We exchanged looks. None of us got back inside.

Afterwards, I was really busy doing something I hadn't done in quite some time - being a sovereign state.

Vilnius smells of _gira_ and _šaltibarščiai_. Flight tickets are cheaper around midnight. Orthoptist once a week or I'll need glasses. Friday is laundry day. Those were my lifelines. The only way to keep my sanity. Or what was left of it.

Little by little, other ones joined in.

It takes 2 hours and 30 minutes to go from my place to Laura's. Belgians are much nicer than the French. If I go further from the city center, I can afford fries _and_ a waffle for lunch.

It was at that time that I met the Nice Lady.

* * *

 **Brussels, 1991**

Up until then, we only ever talked on the phone. She was the Director of the European Department at my Ministry of International Economic Relations. But she was a nice lady, so I took to call her 'the Nice Lady'.

And as we finally saw each other in real life, I couldn't help but stare. _Impossible._ She was a spitting image of the shop assistant I had once bribed so that… so that...

The picture, fresh as if it had happened only yesterday, threw me away from my lifelines, right into the sea of memories I was so desperately trying to flee.

 _Eva Kučerová has two lipsticks. She likes to chew on lemon balm leaves. She's not afraid of spiders. She…_

"Lietuva?"

I struggled to get back in touch with the world as we know it.

"Are you not feeling well? Would it be better if we met another time?"

I shook my head and quickly got to the subject. Once we finished, she had a good look at me, eyes squinted, lips pursed.

"I'm sorry but I have to insist. Your numbers are good, yet somehow, you don't seem alright. Is anything the matter?" she asked.

I knew I should have been packing my stuff and leaving as soon as possible, the way I always acted after seeing my boss. But there was something about her, something that kept me sitting there, playing with the edge of my notepad, waiting for… for what? I had no clue.

"It's very kind of you to ask. I'm afraid I'm just a bit tired these days. Luckily, the spring is just around the corner. Sun will do good to all of us," I finally improvised. She didn't seem fooled by my false optimism, quite the contrary. She raised her chin, a sudden knowing smile curving her lips.

"I know that expression," she said, pointing at me. "Although I've never seen it on a country before."

I faked confusion. She chuckled.

"Come on. It's written all over your face! If you don't mind me asking, is that special someone more like me or more like you?"

Quite impressive, I had to admit. Throughout more than a thousand years of existence, none of my superiors had ever attempted to discuss my love life.

...Or lack thereof.

"It does not matter. She's married."

"Oh," she breathed, recoiling somewhat. "I'm sorry."

"No harm done." Again, I thought I should have been leaving. Again, I didn't move.

"It's just that…" I started without realizing. "Regardless for how long she's been gone, I can't stop missing her."

She sighed.

"I understand. Some things can be changed, some can't. Concentrate on the former. And if the feeling gets too much, find a way to deal with it. Paint your house. Learn to cook a new meal. Read. Or write."

My ears caught on the last word. Write. I wasn't much of a wordsmith, but I enjoyed writing anyway. Letters, speeches, memos, reports, journals. Especially journals.

This one is about the longest twenty years of my life.

* * *

 _(A/N: A quick reminder as this will be important for the story later - in the previous fanfic, Toris took Eva for a visit to his place. During some quick shopping, she fell in love with two lipsticks - a subtle ladylike one and a flashy one to make her feel brave and unique. With some help from the shop assistant, he convinced Eva to take both._

 _The 'Nice Lady' Toris mentions is Dalia Grybauskaitė, the current Lithuanian president. According to wiki, her mother was a shop assistant, so I kind of worked with that.)_

* * *

I bought the top floor of an old hotel and turned it into a nice loft apartment all by myself. Mastered two new cuisines. Became a proud owner of two-thirds of my favorite bookshop's stock. _I've built myself a good life,_ I thought one day on my way to the 1992 World Conference. I felt free. Free from the past.

It's just that, sometimes, past fades into background just to reappear in all its splendor shortly after. Usually when you expect it the least.

* * *

 **Paris, 1992**

Suddenly, there she was, making her way through the crowded corridor, an unknown mortal (probably her superior) next to her. With every footstep, she swung her briefcase. Her hips, so perfectly enveloped in a classy green dress, swung along. She seemed… different. Taller. Intrepid. Blooming. In more than just one way.

 _Of course,_ I realized. _She must have turned eighteen in the meantime. She is a woman now._

My lips parted, but nothing came in nor out, not a word, not a sound, not a breath. She took it all away.

"Is that her?" The voice, although familiar, made me jump. I turned around to shake the Nice Lady's hand, wishing I had a switch to turn off my blush. Aware any denying would be futile, I nodded.

"I've just read some materials about her," she went on. "She seems to be adjusting to the change quite well. But I didn't expect any less of someone who stole your heart away." Despite her age and status, she giggled like a schoolgirl.

"What change?" I asked, intrigued.

"Oh, silly me. I forgot I shouldn't talk about it, it's not official yet. Just tell me - the hand with the briefcase. Isn't there something unusual about it?" she whispered mischievously. My eyes slid down Eva's arm just before she could disappear in the conference room. But I _saw_ it, I saw her hand. Small. White. And plain.

The wedding ring was gone.

* * *

 **Prague, still in 1992**

I had to be sure. And I couldn't really walk up to Eva and ask her. So I called _him_ up.

We had a business meeting, then a beer. He did wear a ring, but every time I tried to approach the subject, he would nonchalantly avoid it.

"One more!"

Two pints left me light-headed and fags gave me a cough fit.

"When did you become such a pussy?!"

"Pussies are not weak. They can take quite some pounding."

"So you _do_ know what to do with girls after all!" he laughed. I didn't tell him that I had given up smoking and excessive drinking back in 1986 to show her a good example. Even once she was gone, I never got back to it.

"Come on! ONE MOOORE!"

"I think I'll stop at two beers, thank you."

"No way! You must have three! Three is an important number to a man!"

"Why?" _Did he mean it, like, when the same thing happens three times, it's no longer an accident, a coincidence? That it's meant to be? Like their failed attempts to live together, for instance?_

"Because you have three legs. One drink for each leg, get it?!"

"Oh. I thought you meant threesomes," I quipped. That earned me a high-five.

When, next morning, we got to his house, wasted as I was, I instantly sobered up. What a gloomy, hopeless place. While he slept, I tried to clean up a bit. Still, however much I tried, some things just can't be washed off.

I stayed a bit, taught him some basic cooking. He set the table for three.

"Something to do with three legs again?"

"Nah, that's just in case. She didn't really specify when she would be getting back."

I didn't know what to say.


	3. Chapter 3

**HYNEK**

 **Four Months Since She Left**

Had a meeting with Litva. Got wasted.

He stayed for the weekend. It felt good to have company. What's more, he helped me clean up and showed me some fancy cooking. Such a good guy. And to say that I once suspected him of having interest in Eva! I'm ashamed of myself.

I set the table for three, in case she got back and happened to be hungry. She didn't, but my boss popped in for an unexpected visit and accepted the free place. After a couple of cold beers, Litva said it was getting late and alas, he needed to get going.

Once he left, my boss grabbed my elbow.

"If you could _not_ sleep with this one, that would be great," he mumbled half jokingly, half reproachingly.

I smiled and replied I'd try.

* * *

 **Five Months Since She Left**

Eva got back at last.

I made us some cocoa. She proudly showed me her freshly purchased second hand car. I checked it. It seemed safe. I gave her some tips about how to care for it. Neither of us talked about the row we'd had. To be honest, I'd already moved on.

I said I was thinking about changing the windows. Asked her what color she wanted her blinds to be. She said to do as I wished, that she wouldn't be around often enough to care. While I sat there, trying to understand where it was all heading, she stood up, disappeared for a while, then reappeared with her wool socks, her favorite pajamas and a large folder in her arms.

"I don't need the rest of my stuff. Just give it all to some charity."

Silence.

"Oh, and I'm taking the Warhols."

I just went on staring.

"You can keep everything else. Even the Van Gogh. But I really -"

"Eva," I cut her off. "This is not about paintings."

"Well, no," she mumbled, running through the folder. "Most of the paintings are at Alfred's, anyway. These are sketches and -"

"EVA! I don't give a shit about art!" I sprang up, irate. I shouldn't have shouted, I knew that, but she didn't seem intimidated, just resentful.

"Glad to hear that," she replied coldly. "In that case, I'll take them. Thank you for the drink. I'll see myself out."

Before I could say or do anything, she was gone.

* * *

 _(A/N: Andy Warhol's family originally comes from today's Slovakia.)_

* * *

 **Six Months Since She Left**

She called, pretending it was for business. I tried to help her, guide the conversation towards a more personal aspect. She kept getting back to work. In the end, I ran out of patience and told her that this was her last chance to apologize and get her bottom back over here. Otherwise, she didn't need to come back at all. She hung up on me.

I called our boss. Asked him to get some reason into that head of hers. He replied she didn't acknowledge his orders anymore. I squeezed the listener so tightly it almost broke in half.

 _Oh, so you're shutting me out? Well, two can play at this game._

I entered her room and threw everything - clothes, books, medicinal herbs, even some furniture - out of the window, then set it on fire. I changed the door lock and my phone number, too. I told my secretary never to put her through, let alone allow her to enter my office.

* * *

 **Seven Months Since She Left**

Our boss called. Said he was no longer our boss. Just mine.

 _Fine, then. Let's go halfsies._ All _the way._

I entered my office, collected half of all the paperwork and put it in one corner. On top of it I placed invitations to all the events I was about to handle. Then, I had it all shipped to her. They made me a price - the fifth box was for free.

She tried, but at some point she was bound to feel lost and timidly call for help. If I ever acknowledged her, it was just to tell her one of the following:

-I don't have time for this.

-You should know this kind of thing by now.

-I _really_ don't have time for this.

I might have just put it as my voicemail welcome message.

This lasted for quite a while. Until Francis Bonnefoy himself told me I was acting like a massive dick. Maybe because, however much I hate him, he has a way of touching others' hearts. Maybe because that soft spot I had for her never truly disappeared. Maybe because I realized a separation was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not now?

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **Vilnius, 1993**

One chilly morning, I found myself staring at the newspaper headlines.

Velvet Divorce in Central Europe

 _"… The Czechoslovak era was a crucial part of our history. Nonetheless, we both evolved differently and chose to follow a different way of life. Our co-existence has not only ceased to be enriching, it was holding us back. Splitting peacefully in two states was the test of our maturity. And we passed it with an A+ ..."_

I thought about both of them, so alike, yet poles apart.

I didn't know how to feel.

* * *

 _(What happened between Eva and Hynek is difficult to describe in a few words. The moment she allowed herself to love him, he, unsuspecting, gave up on her. It took him months to understand that was the true reason of her departure._

 _Rajesh = India)_

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 **1993, a Year Since She Left**

And thus, Eva and I made up. And I was almost happy. Until…

That guestroom. I know it by heart. I sat there, crying into her nightgown for such a long time. About how much she treasured me. How much I'd misjudged her. How much pain I'd brought her. How I'd failed to love her.

I went on crying for months, whether on the outside or the inside. Just how could the world go on like this, as if nothing happened? How could I keep living? Feel happiness again? How?!

I've never mourned like that in my whole life. And heaven knows there were reasons.

Shortly after I announced I was about to shave my head and take care of lepers at Rajesh's place, my boss had me summoned.

"Listen to me. I understand these are strange times, that there are many changes to deal with. But you're taking this too far."

Silence.

"The same boiling water that softens a potato leaves an egg hard." He leaned in and looked me in the eye. "Are you a potato or an egg, my boy?"

"How would I know?! I can't even cook a fucking pasta!" I yelped and ran into the corridor.

* * *

My whole being felt hot, not in a good way. I just wanted to go home, to be alone and...

"Stop right there!" a female voice from behind my back ordered. Thought it was familiar, I didn't bother placing it. A restroom door appeared. Just before I could enter, the person yanked me backwards and made me face her. It turned out to be Belarus. Practically the last person I expected to see. Or wanted to.

"Look at yourself!" she snapped. "You're a disgrace to the whole Slavic family, including those idiots shooting each other down in the south!"

"I don't fucking care! Why can't all of you just leave me alone?!" I barked. My eyes welled up with tears. But, instead of sympathizing, the blonde gathered all of her force and gave me an epic slap across the face.

I reeled a bit, then propped against the wall. My cheek was on fire and a little bit of blood trickled out of my nose.

"You were married. Now you're divorced. She's gone. She won't come back. It's sad. It's harsh. But it's the truth. So stop whining like a little bitch and fucking deal with it!"

All I could do was stare in shock. The fact that I was being lectured about unhealthy emotional attachment, by Natalia Arlovskaya of all people, hit me like a freight train.

"Now, I _really_ hoped it wouldn't come to this, but it's the only way," she said and started to unbutton her blouse.


	4. Chapter 4

_(A/N: Daan Van den Berg = Netherlands)_

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 **1993, Still There with Belarus**

To my disappointment, she only undid two buttons, then reached into her bra. She extracted an envelope and handed it to me. I peeked inside.

"What's that?"

"Train tickets." _You fuckhead,_ her eyes added.

"To where?"

"Amsterdam."

"What am I supposed to do in Amsterdam?"

For a moment, I believed she would hit me again.

"What everyone does in Amsterdam. Eat. Drink. Smoke. Screw. Repeat. Your room at Daan's house is already paid. My boss bought me this getaway to deal with _my_ divorce, but you obviously need it much more."

I was out of words.

"Thanks. Just… _why_ are you doing this?"

Positive she would take the gift back, I swiftly hid it. But she just looked away and shrugged.

"You once did the girl wrong," she breathed. "You were blind and I did not pry your eyes open. I did _you_ wrong."

The corridor was still for a while.

"Does that mean you owe one to Eva as well?" I dared. The blonde laughed bitterly.

"Oh, hell no!" she scoffed, then reached out for her hair. I gasped. Only then did I notice there were six fingers on her left hand. As she scratched herself, fat flakes of skin plummeted to the ground. "The two of us are more than even."

* * *

 _(A/N: The Belorussian and the Slovak had never had a good relationship. In 1986, their conflict reached its climax and Eva decided to pay a visit to one of Natalia's nuclear power plants.)_

* * *

 _I want to go home,_ I thought as I walked up to Daan Van den Berg's villa. _I want to go home. I can't bear to see those faces. To talk. To have fun. To…_

"Hello and welcome. Your room is ready," said the tall blond who'd suddenly blocked my way.

"I want to go home," I moaned before I could stop myself. He just shrugged and lit up a cigarette.

"Anything you wish. The customer's always right. No refunds, though. Anyways, at least grab something sweet for the journey." He gestured towards a fresh batch of brownies cooling on the other side of the porch. _So even a guy like Netherlands pities me,_ I observed. The dessert looked delicious, though. I carefully took one and bit into it.

Two days later, I woke up at the very same spot, completely naked. I was hurting at places I didn't even know I had and couldn't recall a single thing about the weekend. Whatever happened, more guys high-fived me that afternoon than in my whole life.

I felt like I had been born again.

* * *

The next day, just like every Monday, I was back in my boss's office. To check if he needed me, to pick up the paperwork. I usually had to ask his assistant to help me get it all into my car, but this time, he just handed me a tiny file.

"That's all?"

"I don't see why you're so surprised. The separation has been dealt with. Your territory shrunk almost by half. And, with all due respect to our new eastern neighbors, we kept the less problematic side."

I closed my eyes and thought for a while.

"There _is_ one issue, though. You've got way too many unused vacation days. You know, Canary Islands are really enjoyable at this time of the year. A friend of mine has a house there. How about a month off?"

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **Bratislava, 1993**

Eva was independent now. We agreed that having each other's embassies would be redundant. She'd use the Viennese one and I would go to Riga when necessary. But we still needed to meet and pose for a picture to mark the beginning of our diplomatic relations.

It all happened so quickly. We shook hands - "Cheese!" - and she was leaving to catch a flight to Hanoi. I walked her to the car. In the meantime, I found out there was a problem with my hotel. She seemed really embarrassed about it.

"How about you stay in my apartment? It's right here, in the castle."

Politely, I refused, but she forced the key into my palm anyway, then turned around to throw her bag into the trunk.

"Eva, I… I'm really sorry about the divorce," I finally choked out. She looked at me again and thanked me with a smile small enough to be credible.

"Some dreams are meant to come true, some aren't," she said. Next, she kissed me on the cheek (pleasantly close to my mouth) and left.

* * *

My crush's apartment.

It was nice. Neither too big, nor too small. Provided everything one could possibly need, but I was too afraid to touch any of it. I felt like in a museum.

A cat meowed at the window. I let her in, gave her some ham.

The fridge full of things the names of which I vaguely understood. A typical girly bathroom. And despite the place being overall clean, long brown hairs seemed to lurk on every corner.

And I realized, more strongly than ever before, that _that_ was what I wanted. _I want this girl flooding my bathroom with dozens of mysterious pots and bottles. I want us to cook meals we cooked back in Moscow. I want to sleep in the same bed as she does._

Sweet serenity took over; my eyelids grew heavy. I let them down and made myself comfortable. Something tickled my lips. I grabbed it and put it carefully on the other pillow.

 _...And I want to be finding this girl's hair everywhere._

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 **Tenerife, still in 1993**

 **(A year and a half since Eva left, but Hynek does not measure time that way anymore)**

 _I guess this divorce wasn't such a bad thing after all,_ I realized while sipping on my vodka-orange. The Mediterranean sun was already doing its magic.

 _Whatever wrong I've ever done to Eva, she is okay now. Better than I remember, actually. She's happy._ _As for me, I can finally concentrate on my career and show everyone just how far a small country from the East can get. I'll live my dream while providing an example and a beaten path for my little girl. Who, by the way, has turned into a quite a lady._

 _...I should get myself a new gun._


	5. Chapter 5

**TORIS**

 **Riga, 1994**

I'm not the only one who noticed Eva is an adult now. I can see them on every corner, those pairs of eyes following her like famished dogs. There should be a law against it.

Then again, it would be a double-edged sword. Sometimes, I'm not much better myself. Like now, for instance.

I'm stepping into the lift and pushing a button.

"Hold it!"

Before I could realize, she darts inside through the closing door and… _falls into my arms_. For the first time.

"So sorry for that, I'm late for my... Oh, hi, Toris!" she beams. To my infinite regret, she breaks away to have a good look at me. "Long time no see!"

Her perfume floods my nostrils. She looks so fresh and tempting in that silk blouse and tight skirt. Forcing her way in must have hurt a bit because she's rubbing both her arms. Which makes the silhouette of her breasts appear even more clearly above her neckline.

My heart's pounding, so much so my vision gets blurred. I want to stop the lift, cage her against the wall and kiss her hard. She'll wrap those gorgeous white legs around me and I'll...

No way. This is wrong. I feel like I'm dirtying her just by looking at her like this. No, I must not. I have no right. She's pure, pure like the driven snow...

But snow has to melt one day so the spring can come, right? Suddenly, we're lying on a mountain meadow. Her naked body smells of herbs and flowers. I make her a bed out if my clothes so she won't catch cold. She seems a bit nervous. _Don't worry,_ I say. _I'll be tender. I'll be considerate..._

"Toris?"

 _Yes, my dear. It's me. And you. Just the two of us. Let's be one.  
_  
"Toris!"

 _Yes, say my name. Say my name while I...  
_  
"TORIS!"

I blink. She's giving me a curious look.

"Is anything the matter?" she wonders, a drop annoyed.

 _Yes, it is. I'm turning into a sex-crazed maniac._

"Not at all…" I rub the back of my head. "I just... haven't had my coffee yet!" I improvise.

"Oh." She nods in compassion.

Yes, that's it! I'll ask her out for a coffee. So we can talk and catch up. Just an innocent coffee, no hidden agenda. I'm not that kind of man, thank you very much. Although I will most certainly not mind if...

I give up. It's not coffee I need. I need a drink. Wait! That's it! The bottle of mead I drained yesterday, that's it! Why did Raivis have to pick such a depressive film anyway? It's an aphrodisiac and it's probably still in my blood flow. That's it! I'm _not_ a pervert!

Now, how shall I approach this? I'll start by telling her something nice.

"You look different today. Have you changed something?" I inquire.

"Wow, Liet, how can you tell?! I've just had my legs waxed!"

Horrified, I blink again to realize I'm staring at a wrong member of the big Slavic family.

"What the…" I mumble under my breath.

"Happy to see you, too." The blond in front of me pouts.

"Sorry, Feliks. Of course it's good to see you," I rush out before he gets hysterical. What if it's _that_ part of the month again?! I've stopped keeping track a while ago. "And, errr… congrats on your hairless legs! Anyway, do you happen to know where's -"

"Słowacja? She left while you were busy losing a fight against your libido. Not that I could blame you. Once you try a Slav, you can't turn back around. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bikini wax coming up."

R. I. P. my libido, shot in the face by Feliks Łukasiewicz.

* * *

 **Geneva, 1996**

Emergency meeting in UN headquarters. Guys eating out. I pretend I'm meeting someone else and leave - restaurants in Geneva are too expensive for me. I head for a nearby park. There's a fountain with drinkable water and a nice old tree I like to nap under. But when I get there, I realize someone has already taken my place. Not that I could complain.

Her aura suggests she doesn't want company, but she's wearing the flashy lipstick, so I sit down next to her anyway.

"Aren't you eating with others?" she breathes distantly after a moment, eyes still closed.

"I've had a big breakfast. What about you?"

She snorts.

"I had a twenty francs allowance for lunch. Found this for 18,99." She tugs on the sweater she is wearing. "Love at first sight."

"It suits you." And I mean it. The violet goes nicely with her skin. And her eyes, I notice as she finally opens them.

"Then I have no regrets." She smiles.

"Still, you should eat something. Too bad if it's out of budget." _Does saying this make me a hypocrite?_ I wonder. _Probably yes._ So I change the strategy.

"You know what, let's go get us a lunch. My treat," I suggest cheerfully.

"That's very kind. But I'm afraid I'm not really hungry, either." What she truly means is that I need every lita just as much as she needs every koruna. And she is right. We're just a couple of hungry Eastern European liars.

Neither of us says anything for a while. Then, she sits closer and leans against me. I gather my bony shoulder isn't very comfortable, so I shake off my jacket and fold it into a makeshift pillow. To my disappointment, she doesn't resume her position.

"How did things go in Moscow after 1989?" she asks. "I wasn't able to properly speak to anyone from the house ever since. My boss doesn't want me to."

"Ditto," I admitted. "Anyway, we left, one by one. All of us."

"So I've heard. Even his sisters." She chuckles. "Can't believe Belarus let go, too. She's always been so tenacious. I was pretty sure she would drag him all the way to the altar eventually."

The picture of Natalia literally dragging Ivan down the aisle makes me smirk.

"I don't think that's ever going to happen. And what about you? Can you imagine getting married?" The question leaves my mouth before I can filter it. I feel like facepalming at my own clumsiness. She says nothing, just stares somewhere over the horizon, the answer written all over her face. _I have been married three times already. To the same man. Each marriage more disappointing than the one before._

"Eva." I try to change the subject. "How about we go for a walk? The Léman lake is really nice and it doesn't cost a thing to look. And you really should eat. We'll go find a supermarket. I bet we can get you biscuits or something like that for less than a franc…"

Suddenly, I find myself unable to continue my speech - her lips pushing against my cheek make me go completely numb. Next, she takes the folded jacket and rests her head on my shoulder once more.

"If I could, I would just marry you, Toris," she whispers in my ear. It feels as if she has just grabbed my heart and squeezed it.

"Wh-what's stopping you?" I finally manage. No reply comes. I turn my head slightly to look at her. Lips parted, eyelids down, face relaxed. She's asleep. Before I know it, I'm drifting off myself.

When I wake up, she's gone. And lunch break is long over. I run back to the headquarters in panic.

"Sorry, guys!" I storm into the conference room. "I just wanted a quick nap and overslept!"

Everyone turns to look at me and freeze. Some are grinning, some frowning. I wonder whether my fly is undone, but a quick glance confirms it isn't. Then, thankfully, Ludwig in the front resumes his speech and everybody turns to face him again. Well, _almost_ everybody.

"Nap, _ja_?" Gilbert snickers as I take place next to him and nudges me. I get a few winks and some thumbs up from the others. Only when I'm leaving the restroom after the meeting do I understand. I stare into the mirror. There are flashy lipstick stains on my shirt, ear and a big, lip-shaped one on my cheek, pleasantly close to my mouth. I'm grinning like an idiot. And if it wasn't for the business dinner that night, I would never wash my face again.

 _Today was a good day._


	6. Chapter 6

**Two chapters today :)**

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 **Brno, 1998**

"Sorry, brother, I just don't share your enthusiasm. OECD was a good idea. NATO as well, with one eye closed. And it isn't like I actually have a choice or something. Still, this..." Eva frowned at the blue and yellow brochure. "I mean, a bunch of countries united around a strong leader, cooperating economically, adopting the same currency... Doesn't that sound familiar?"

Back then, I didn't quite catch her drift.

"I understand your doubts."

Of course she was against the European Union when most of her politicians kept yelling it was a trap.

"My boss isn't that zealous, either. But I trust my guts on this one. We can only gain."

"It's just that... it smells weird, you know." She shrugged, reaching for the bowl of pickles the innkeeper just brought.

"That's what you said about pickles before you first tried them, remember? Anyway, just think on it. Your future is in your hands, darling."

She looked down on her palms.

"My future is a pickle," she said pensively, then threw it in her mouth. Her silly behavior did not fool me; I already knew she was reconsidering. She wanted the new, the exciting. Having sat in the corner for so long, her blood was slowly starting to boil with the hunger for life.

She swallowed the food and laughed.

"Ooops. I just ate my future."

 _I must ask Feliks to spend a little bit less time with her._

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **Berlin, 1998**

"For the next year's language classes." Erszébet handed me a brochure. "Revise Trianon!" she then yelped to a passer-by. I looked up and noticed Eva. Butterflies filled my stomach.

"Bite me!" the younger girl hit back and disappeared.

"I believed you two had resolved your mutual differences years ago," I breathed in wonder.

"We did." Erzi grinned. "But if our bosses found out, they would cut the funds destined to improve our political relationship. We wouldn't be able to get drunk for free anymore."

"Clever girls!" I laughed.

"It was _her_ idea." She winked and walked back to her desk. I wondered how much she knew. Especially considering she was friends with Eduard.

I didn't really have money for that kind of thing, but I flicked through the brochure anyway. Some others had already put down their names. One of them made me freeze.

 _She's taking up French._

Two centuries ago, I used to be fluent. Now I could barely remember the basic swear words. So, why not?! Self-development. My boss would be happy.

* * *

 **Brussels, 1999**

French classes did not turn out to be such a good idea. The first time, she couldn't come, then I fell ill. Once I got better, she wasn't there anymore. Apparently, she was a quicker learner than the others, so she switched to one-to-one lessons.

Before too long, the Nice Lady asked me how it was going. I decided she deserved honesty and explained why I'd _really_ signed up in the first place. And that there was clearly no point in pursuing now. She frowned at my words, more in exasperation rather than anger.

"You know what you want and you are busy wanting it. Or _her_ , for that matter. But ask yourself the right questions. What if, one day, it all comes true? Will you be ready? Will you be the man she wants, needs, deserves?"

I said nothing.

"French people are rubbish at foreign languages," she went on. "This can actually open plenty of doors for you."

I concluded she was right and went to ask Laura (who tutored us) how much she charged for private lessons. She just smiled sweetly and said it was okay. That she would certainly enjoy teaching someone whose sole motivation wasn't impressing the opposite sex.

I really hope that one day, she will find such a pupil...

* * *

The Nice Lady's words got me thinking. What would I do if, all of a sudden, she accepted me? Easy: I would kiss her. I wasn't a bad kisser; I had centuries of practice. Well, maybe except these last couple of years. But they say it's just like riding a bike.

Kissing often leads to other things. I haven't done that in a while, either. Well, except that one time when we were partying in Amsterdam and… No. What happens in Amsterdam stays in Amsterdam.

Contrary to the popular belief, I did enjoy the company of women. And I'm not disclosing any numbers, but rarely did they leave my arms unfulfilled. The secret was to find out what they liked, which wasn't necessarily always the same thing. So I decided to learn all there was left to learn on the subject. In theory, of course.

While pursuing this new goal, a forgotten memory bubbled out: one of those days shortly before she left Moscow I wanted to peck her cheek, but, for some reason, she moved away and my mouth ended up on her ear. Blood rushed into her face and she trailed off. I smiled as I finally understood why.

So I already had a small idea about what she might like. Surely she would be kind enough to teach me the rest. Wait… would she?! Now that she had grown so classy and irresistible, could she possibly ever be attracted to me?

I stripped to underwear and had a good look at myself in the mirror. Legs were pretty good (basketball!). I've always had strong arms, but somehow they never really acquired that satisfying curvy shape. I already knew she did not mind my scar-ridden back. I stopped at my chest - it had never been much to look at. A real shame, since she seemed to like hunky guys. Never mind. My shoulders might not get any broader, but I could at least tone what I had.

Working out did me lots of good. It was so different from collective sports. I would always forget about the whole world, it would be just me and my body steadily going stronger. And the stronger I got, the more confident I grew. I was starting to think I could actually do it. Ask her out. I just didn't know whether it wasn't too soon. Had she already recovered from her divorce? Was there some kind of socially recognized waiting period? I had no idea.

And thus, for the time being, I decided to wait.


	7. Chapter 7

**TORIS**

It was a good thing I did not rush into anything because, in the meantime, I realized I was forgetting the essential. I didn't want our love to be just skin deep. Surely she would enjoy being stimulated in other ways, too! She was now a sophisticated young woman. Not that I was a simpleton, but it wouldn't hurt to have something in stock to impress her.

I thought about her taking up French. According to the little information I got from Laura, she was advancing really quickly - she must have had some deep motivation. And every time we were at his place, Francis made sure to come by and kiss her cheeks. How clever of him to have invented such greeting so he could kiss beautiful women without risk! Plus, he would always dine with her in private. I bet that arrogant Frenchie wouldn't mind showing her his ridiculously old and tiny... Parisian apartment! As for her, she didn't seem to care much for him as a man. Why was she seeing him anyway?!

 _Oh, of course!_ In a flash, I understood. Not as a man. She liked him as a country. They both loved eating and drinking so much. _Yes, that must be it!_

And I knew just what to do.

* * *

Translation (from French)

Putain = fuck

Desolé = sorry

Une fille = a girl

Raplapla = (colloquial) flat, worn out

* * *

 **Paris, 1999**

"Exactly _why_ should I teach you?" Francis's eyebrows practically met halfway. I thought the right amount of flattery should do it.

"Because, despite my skills and knowledge of several cuisines, I can't call myself a cook until I master yours. I deeply admire it."

He didn't look convinced.

"Indeed _._ Everybody admires my cuisine. So why should I allow you my time? _You_ in particular?"

I started to improvise, explaining how wonderful and creative it could be if my centuries old recipes were reinvented with a touch of his _savoir-faire_. He smiled a little, so I went on and on.

"... _ciepelinai_ , which would go so nicely with a glass of cool red wine and -"

I froze. The blond was now all white, his earlier grin just a bittersweet memory.

" _Oh, putain._ " He facepalmed. "You don't put red wine in a fucking fridge! Ever! Under any circumstances!"

"S-sure." I suppressed the urge to rub the back of my head. Since 1990, I was growing less and less tolerant to others shouting at me, but he wasn't really the angry kind of country, so I figured I must have poked a sensitive spot. "Sorry for that!"

"I forgive you this time," he sighed after a while and stood up to show me out.

"So, okay for the classes?"

Instead of replying, he just laughed. Not in that usual playful way, though.

" _Désolé_." He frowned sympathetically. "Unless you can look me in the eye now and tell me that it was all just a bad joke, that you would _never_ commit such a sacrilege as to put a nice pinot noir in a _fridge_ (he shuddered at the word), I have no choice but to conclude you are just not worthy."

 _Oh yes. French people don't joke about wine._ And, unfortunately, I couldn't do as he asked. _Damn it, what am doing in politics if I cannot even lie properly?!_ I thought. _I should just move up north and live as a simple fisherman in a hut without electricity in a village without so much as a post office._ I dropped my head in defeat.

"I'm sorry. The truth is…" Now it was my turn to sigh. "The truth is, I'm doing all of this just to impress a girl. Please forgive me for wasting your lunch break. I'll go now."

But, suddenly, he didn't seem so contemptuous anymore.

" _Une fille_?" He grinned. I slowly nodded.

"Tell me about her. Is she pretty?"

"She's _not_ pretty." I shook my head. "Pretty doesn't even start to cover it. Imagine the world has become a playground to a bunch of cruel, temperamental gods. Wild lightnings are relentlessly cutting through the skies, erasing the little that's still left after all those years of snowstorms, earthquakes and fiery rivers of lava. Everything has gone to waste. There's just you, stripped of all you've ever cherished, all you believed in and hoped for, lying in the pool of your own blood, begging for the end to come. And then, out of nowhere, _she_ appears. She takes your hand and helps you up. You're standing firm again. She smiles. And you don't have the tiniest shade of doubt that she will do it - she will rebuild everything just the way it used to be. Only better."

For a while, the room was still.

"Tomorrow, 16:30. Métro stop Georges V. Bring your own egg batter."

* * *

 **Paris, 2001**

Having mastered all the typical meals, I asked Francis to concentrate on desserts. She'd always had a sweet tooth. Soon enough, I was making perfect _cremes brûlées, îles flottantes_ and _macarons aux framboises_ eyes closed. The only challenge seemed to be that unfortunate _mousse au chocolat_. For some reason, it always got a bit…

"I said _mousse_ au chocolat, not _omelette_ au chocolat!"

...omeletty.

"I can't help it. Happens every time, even though I follow the recipe to the letter." I shrugged helplessly.

"Oh, don't sweat _._ You must have rushed a bit and the chocolate wasn't cool enough, that's why it went a bit _raplapla_." He took the goo I'd created, added some flour and baking powder, then put it in the oven to make a cake. "Just try again."

Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you. Francis turned out to be a really nice person. French people were generally much nicer to me now that I spoke their tongue.

We made plenty of cakes that day. And, by the time I finally got it right, I would have normally abandoned. But, for some reason, I was convinced _mousse au chocolat_ was her favorite, so I kept trying. At the 27th attempt, knowing that this time I would finally make it, I mixed in a little bit of cinnamon.

"Not bad!" He nodded approvingly at the first mouthful. "Now go get the girl!" he laughed.

Satisfied, I left. His work with me was done. And I could tell he wanted to be left alone with the _mousse_.

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 **EU Headquarters, Brussels, 2002**

Just as expected, Eva applied for the EU membership along with the bunch of us. After the presentation, we all received sheets with stuff to fix before hoping for an admittance. Then, a vaguely familiar, rather pretty lady came over to us. Everyone went quiet.

"Good luck to all of you," she purred happily. "Not that I think you'll need it."

Before leaving, she shook everyone's hand. As my turn came, she stopped in her tracks, retracted her hand, looked me over with disdain and moved on.

"Who the hell was that?" I mumbled under my breath.

"Laura Dewitte, aka Miss Belgium," the guy next to me replied cheerfull. The flag on his badge vaguely reminded me of Austria's. "She's the unofficial head of the EU. Isn't she something?!"

"Sure. Quite something."

And I didn't know the half of it yet.

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **EU Headquarters, Brussels, 2002**

I _wanted_ to ask her out. Heaven knows I wanted that more than anything. I kept meeting her regularly, so opportunities did appear. But one day it was too cloudy, another day my shirt was too shabby... long story short, I kept playing for time. Then, before I could realize, 2002 came and there was all that European Union business to think of. I decided that if they accepted me, I would do it.


	8. Chapter 8

**HYNEK**

 **Prague, 2003**

Dealing with my EU to-do list was rather alright. Then again, after two world wars, fifty years under a totalitarian regime and an economic crisis here and there, some things just can't scare you anymore.

Same went for Eva. I was a little worried about her not fulfilling the conditions, but she caught up in no time. Once she makes up her mind, nothing can stop her.

But something else was happening, too. She'd met someone.

I'd spent the last decade chasing off all the males who tried to approach her, but I could tell this was going to be different. Something had already started between them. And she seemed to _really_ like him. Caught her looking at his photo the other day. And _how_ she looked at it!

I knew I'd already seen him somewhere. I went through the pictures from my stay in the US a couple of years ago until I found the one.

Everyone who ever tried visiting the North Pole knows that once you get too close, your compass becomes useless. Something to do with the magnetic center of the Earth, they say. Well, I have a different theory.

* * *

 **Somewhere Unpleasantly Close to the North Pole, 1988**

"Are you sure it's this way?" I turned questioningly to Alfred. We had recently visited Alaska and were supposed to be getting back south. Yet somehow, despite two days of walking, the temperature was still well below the freezing point.

"'Fcourse. You can count on this baby!" He gave the state-of-the-art compass a proud-parent look. _The best one on the market,_ he wouldn't stop bragging. The already merciless wind suddenly grew much stronger. He straightened his neck again and sniffed.

"A snowstorm's coming. Let's take shelter."

We found an empty cave and set fire. I longed for a hot shower and a soft, comfortable bed. And peeing without having to kick the pee away afterwards. The depression started to take over, so I hid in my sleeping bag. A while later, the sensation of cold woke me up. The fire had grown much smaller.

"Do you want me to add some wood?" Alfred asked, eyes on his paperback.

 _Of course. Make_ me _look like the fragile one._

"I'm good, thanks."

I hugged myself tighter and tried to relax again. Before too long, I heard him zipping up his own sleeping bag.

"Shall I add-d some wood-d?" I hit nonchalantly back. Well, more or less nonchalantly.

"Only if you w-want to…" he managed through his clacking teeth.

"I'm g-good."

"M-me too."

Our eyes met in a mutual declaration of war.

Thus, believe it or not, we just went on lying motionless in that giant freezer. After hours that felt like days, I finally cracked. And, to my infinite horror, I realized I was already too stiff to move. I tried to talk just to realize my lips have frozen together. I didn't know what to do. I was scared to let my eyelids down, worried I would never get to open them again. But they seemed to be weighing a ton… plus, the fact that I was starting to feel warmer wasn't helping. That's what happens in the final stage of severe hypothermia. I was warmer, warmer, still warmer… And it must have been Christmas, because it was snowing outside, and the fire was crackling and everything smelled of mulled wine and…

Wait. Fire? Mulled wine?!

I opened my eyes again and blinked a couple of times, convinced it was a dream. Even more so when a steaming metallic mug levitated all the way from the fireplace to me. I glanced at the compass lying nearby. Strange. The needle seemed to be dancing in synchrony with the mug. Which was not levitating. It was attached to a hand. Which was attached to a grown man. If Arthur, Francis and Ivan had somehow made a son, I suddenly knew what he would have looked like.

"Hello there. Happy Boxing day!" His voice sounded exactly like Alfed's whispering. So many questions. And too little control of my frozen muscles to ask any. "I am really glad you decided to visit my place for holidays!"

Next to me, the frosted American tried to sit up. A second mug was handed to him. His face cleared up. Then, his eyes fell on the hyperactive compass and the young features tightened again.

"Mattie, bro… how long have you been among us?"

The visitor thought for a while.

"Since the day before Christmas, I think. I went to welcome you with the wine ready, but you did not seem to notice me. You know I hate to interrupt. So I just followed. Anyway, I hope you don't mind my setting fire. I just wanted to reheat the drink for when you two wake up. It has frozen in the meantime. It's a tad chilly outside, eh?"

* * *

 **Back in Prague, 2003**

'URGENT HELP NEEDED. PLEASE COME ASAP.'

He wasn't one to let others in the bind, but I copied Alfred anyway. Just to be sure.

"What's wrong, bro? Who's messing with you?" The American practically jumped out of the plane, grabbing my shoulders, then hugging me before I could properly greet him. The Canadian just behind gave me a timid wave.

"Yes, what seems to be the problem?" he breathed.

"Isn't it obvious? Just take a look." I gestured all around myself. "Too much cheap booze. Even more of delicious food. And way too many beautiful women! As I said, I need help. My treat, guys!"

* * *

Matthew snoozed while I drove us to the old town. His brother made a couple of phone calls, then explained I didn't need to worry if one of those days, a truck full of ammo pulled in in front of my house, that he wasn't able to cancel all of them.

As we entered one of the bars, my eyes quickly found Ivan and I nodded at him. He loved Prague and owned a sizeable part of it. Right now, he was considering owning the new strawberry blonde barmaid's bottom, but he did me the courtesy of nodding back anyway. His eyebrow shot up in amusement when he saw whom I'd brought along.

Once we took place, Alfred noticed him as well and frowned, which seemed to crack the Russian up even further. Long story short, Al decided to prove his point (whatever that was) by outdrinking his nemesis until, following his fifth beer, he passed out under the table. By that time, Ivan, down his second bottle of vodka, had forgotten all about my visitor and was now busy groping the giggling barmaid and trying to pull down her bra straps with his teeth. It reminded me why I was there in the first place.

I shifted over to the Canadian. He must have been used to actual alcohol because, despite having drunk as much as Al, he still seemed alert.

"So, how about we find ourselves girls for the night?" I gave him a playful nudge, but he just went on staring at his half-empty pint.

"Or a guy for you, I don't judge." I shrugged.

"No, no!" He instantly lit up. Questioning a man's virility. Works every fucking time. "It's just that…" I waited for him to go on. "There might be... someone."

"Really?" I asked innocently. "Come on, tell me about her. Is she pretty?"

"Very. Very pretty," he replied, his tone dreamy and lovelorn. "She's got these beautiful eyes. They remind me of my forests. When she speaks, she's got this cute accent. And her touch is so warm and soft… like a pancake fresh from the pan."

 _Wow, that's a pretty unusual simile. But then again, why not? Originality is hard to find these days._

"She's good-natured and fun and she likes hockey… She's just perfect. She's the only one I want," he breathed wistfully.

"Are you sure?" I teased some more. "You know, the beauty of Slavic women is legendary."

"I can't agree more. She's a Slav, too!"

* * *

"So now I know for sure," I mumbled to myself once we'd dragged unconscious Al back to my place and bade each other good night. _And, for some reason, I don't like it. A hunky violet-eyed blond showing interest in Eva. The last time this happened, the two of us lost our freedom for almost half a century._

(Not to mention that the prick was still there, but at least now, he was paying.)

 _Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you, Blondie?_ I thought bitterly. _A free summer house in central Europe. And a pretty girl to keep your stomach full and bed warm. Well, let me tell you - not if I can help it._


	9. Chapter 9

**HYNEK**

The next morning, I caught him staring at a picture of me and Eva on my fridge.

"Do you know her?"

"Of course. She's my baby sister," I beamed proudly.

"Oh," he breathed, obviously relieved.

"Hold on. Is she your special one?!"

"Ah. Errr..." He refused to meet my eye for a while, fidgeting, but before too long, he looked up again. "Maybe. Do you happen to know whether she's seeing anyone?" He was so sheepish about it I couldn't help but laugh. In a good-hearted way, though.

"Not that I'm aware of."

It seemed to have given him confidence.

"I'm… actually meeting her in a month. Do you think I should… you know… do something?"

"Why not." I shrugged.

"I mean, what's the worst that could happen, eh?!" he laughed nervously. He seemed so easy-going and well-mannered, but not too much to seem posh. I realized I kind of liked him. But then again, I kind of liked Ivan at first, too. And many were the nights when I couldn't sleep, wishing I was able to go back in time and prevent him from ever laying his icy fingers on Eva. It would break her if that kind of thing happened again. So I did what every worthy big brother would do.

"Well, now that you said that…" He tensed up again. _Good_. I decided to tell him about Gilbert. "There was this friend of mine who asked her out some time ago." Right after having invaded her place, but I left that out. "Apparently, she rejected him so loudly and with so much disgust that the whole street heard it. He was a broken man for a while." About half an hour, but I left that out as well.

"I see," he mumbled in a voice even below his usual half whisper. "Do you think… it might happen again?"

"One way to find out. Let me know how it went." I patted his back and started to cook breakfast. From the corner of my eye, I could see him wearing his smile upside down now.

 _I guess we'll never find out._

* * *

I didn't want to take any risks. When it was time for them to meet (in Brussels, just before her presentation for EU admittance), I suggested she could fly with a low cost company and thus save some money. As expected, she got there late and missed the date. They decided to postpone to the day after, but that was too close to her big moment. She would be busy and feverish, possibly even passive aggressive. So much so that, before the end of her speech, he would be halfway home to pursue his uneventful and solitary life. And Eva would be safe from harm once more. All in all, it was a piece of cake.

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **Brussels, 2003**

My presentation was flawless. Others were impressed. How could they not? I was going straight on, carefully picking my reforms and the slowly-but-surely attitude paid off. Even a bunch of political scandals didn't sink me. I actually surprised my own self.

With the membership as good as mine, I asked around for Eva. Somebody told me to check the hotel bar.

 _Positive thinking, Toris. Positive thinking. She will accept. Of course she will! You've got plenty to offer as a person. She will come over and you will cook her a dinner. Some home made paté for starters, followed by a spinach-salmon quiche and, last, but definitely not least, a chocolate mousse with a touch of cinnamon. You'll wash it down with some wine, most likely a nice bottle of chardonnay. And then you'll go for a walk. Watch the stars, or just stay in and pick a movie. Anything she wants. A movie would be nice, though. That way you can cuddle under a blanket. And then you won't wash the blanket till another date. Of course there will be another one. And dozens more._

Full of optimism, I was just about to peek inside the bar when, in a flash, she passed me by. She didn't notice me, too much in a hurry. I propped myself against the nearby wall until my pulse slowed down again. She was there, flesh and bones, milk and blood. Good Lord! Getting into EU suddenly seemed so easy. Everything I had ever been through suddenly seemed so easy!

After around twenty minutes of sweating like an olympic sportsman, I straightened my back, took a huge breath, said a little prayer to all the gods I knew (most of which I never worshipped), brushed the invisible dust off my clothes and entered the bar.

As if by magic, my eyes instantly met hers. She smiled and waved, then went on looking at the man sitting in front of her (who just gave me a quick glance before deciding I wasn't worth his time). And _how_ she looked at him!

I honestly thought I would never be able to hate another country as much as I hated Ivan. Guess what? I was wrong.

* * *

Translation (from French):

Alors? = So?

* * *

 _Well, that explained her French classes,_ I thought as I lied in my room, staring blankly at the ceiling. The phone started to ring.

" _Alors_?" Speak of the devil. Maybe I should have told him it was Eva I did it all for. He must have known what was going on; the boy was his family. He would have warned me. Shoulda woulda coulda, I guess.

"No," I replied simply.

Silence.

"I failed," I added.

"You were too rushed again?"

I just wasn't in a state to explain that this was not about a stupid _mousse_.

"Turned out she prefers pancakes…" I whispered and hung up.


	10. Chapter 10

**TORIS**

And then, I just went on lying there, kissing two bottles of my best vodka which were supposed to be a gift for someone, watching the gray sky go violet, black, then orange and blue. Probably I cried, too - I usually do when I'm drinking alone. I only left my room in the middle of the next afternoon to get more liquor. I didn't have the courage to exit the hotel, so I tried the bar. I knew I was safe. Eva was now on the other side of the city, too busy deciding about her future. And he probably waiting outside the headquarters with a giant bouquet of roses.

Somebody patted my shoulder. As I looked up, my stomach clenched so tightly I almost threw up on the spot.

I didn't want to talk. To anyone, let alone him. He didn't seem to realize, though. Instead, he sat down next to me and attempted a heart-to-heart chat. To find out whether she could be trusted, whether she deserved a chance. I was just about to tell him to beat it when something inside my mind clicked and, all of a sudden, I was seeing him with different eyes. Big brother eyes.

As much as I liked Alfred, I'd rather have died than seen him close to her. Yet his brother seemed different. Calm and disciplined, probably thanks to the hockey. Didn't smoke, didn't do drugs, drank on occasion. Plus, it didn't take a genius to see that the only living thing he shared his bed with was his baby polar bear.

But, most of all, he reminded me of myself. I used to be as blind as him. I wished that all those years ago, someone would have grabbed my shoulders, given me a shake and shouted in my face that now was my chance, that I'd better run, squeeze her tight and never let go for she is one of a kind. For him, it still wasn't too late.

So I did what every worthy big brother would do.

* * *

"Meet my boyfriend, Canada!" Eva's laugh is beautiful and bubbly. She's enjoying using that new word. Good for you, darling. Just for the sake of universal balance, I'm taking care of negative emotions myself.

As for you, Blondie, don't you dare give me that suspicious look. If I was that kind of person, you would already be home, pursuing your uneventful and solitary life. And I would slowly be making her mine _. Mine mine mine mine mine…_ I thought deliriously until I drifted to a long and heavy sleep.

* * *

In moments like this, moments of utter distress to me, I always have the same kind of dreams. Ones in which I'm a mortal.

They are usually about dying. At different times in history, in different ways. But the essence never changes. It's always fear of the ultimate unknown. And that desperate longing to be given a little bit more time. To erase my mistakes, become a better person and live to the full. A last wish that just can't be granted.

This dream is different, however. I'm live and well, kneeling in front of an altar, wearing my best suit and a rose on the lapel. I turn to the side to be greeted with a smile. Everything about her is white. The dress. The veil. The bouquet. There are just those raspberry lips and a pair of gorgeous dark green eyes piercing through. _I love you,_ she mouths.

I'm in Vilnius again, this time outside the cathedral. I'm carrying four ice cream cones. There's a little boy and a slightly older girl that tickles him with one of her pigtails. They laugh and then hug. Her hair is chestnut, his lighter brown. They both have green eyes. I give them their cones and head over to the woman nearby.

"Chocolate and cinnamon," I announce. She beames and gladly accepts the treat. I stroke her cheek, then her round belly. The baby will come any moment now. I hope it will have its mother's eyes, too.

Our grandchildren now have children of their own and I can tell I will soon be heading to the cathedral once more, except this time, I will be carried. It's only natural. We're both old now, can barely walk and every week, a new sore spot appears on our overused bodies. Most of my hair is gone, hers is silvery and cropped short. The pair of us is covered in wrinkles. But it's her eyes that made her beautiful to me and she will always have those. Therefore, she will always be beautiful. My shaky hand reaches out for hers.

 _I don't know where I'm going. But even if it's nowhere, even if there's nothing afterwards, I will not mind. I've known the true heaven; I've been there until now._

 _Thank you for this gift of gifts, my love._

* * *

 **HYNEK**

"Anyway, this is my boyfriend, Canada," Eva told me a week later, her smile so bright it almost blinded me. Seven days went by, but I could still recall everything like it was yesterday. His storming into the conference room where practically the whole Europe was attending her presentation. His kissing her the way they only do in tacky romantic movies. And my reaching for my Shadow Line, which, alas, was not there. Guns are not permitted in the EU headquarters. But, then again, neither are Canadians. I'm probably the only one stupid enough to follow the rules.

I would have done something reckless and irreversible if Gilbert hadn't distracted me.

"Wouldn't mind trading places right now," he mumbled dreamily.

"I didn't know you were bi-curious," I retorted and we started to laugh and kick each other, which calmed me down again.

"We've already met," I clarify, but shake Matthew's hand anyway while beaming even wider than Eva. But the biggest grin award would definitely go to him. We exchange a wink.

 _Enjoy it while you can, Blondie. First love is short-lived and yours will be no exception. I'll personally see to it._

* * *

 **The next chapter will be out in September. Have a nice holiday!**


	11. Chapter 11

**TORIS**

 **Geneva, 2004**

That was _our_ special spot. Mine and hers. And now she was sitting there with _him_ , snogging like the teenagers they were.

"C'mon, Leedu. The vernissage has already started - better get over with that boring shit as soon as possible."

I turned around to impatient Eduard, struggling to act casual.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here and glare a hole into that guy."

Alright. I guess I wasn't as smooth as I thought.

"Gimme that." I tore the half finished cigarette out of his fingers and inhaled, then doubled up in that familiar cough fit. Once again, I was laughed at. What can I say? My brain was craving the nicotine, but my lungs just wouldn't have any.

"I mean… what does he have that I don't?" I hissed as we were passing them by. Not that they could hear me - they were too busy trying to eat each other anyway. "Except for the blond hair," I quickly added. "And the olympic body. The big house. The G8 membership." Only then did I notice the French champagne and finest Swiss chocolates sticking out of their picnic basket. And I hadn't even bought her a pack of generic biscuits. "And the money," I sighed.

"Her." He pointed subtly at Eva. "He's got _her_."

 _Asshole._

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 **Prague, 2004**

Apart from this minor inconvenience, I had every reason to be happy. Now that me, Eva, Feliks and some others became members of the EU, new doors seemed to be opening at every step. Needless to say we had work to do.

A couple of months later, I had the Canadian on the phone, so I asked whether he was enjoying his new relationship status. His yes didn't sound convincing. After some insisting, he finally choked it out.

"She wants to kiss in public all the time. It's inappropriate," he mumbled almost inaudibly.

"You mean that noisy kind of thing with lots of tongue involved, usually associated with groping?"

"No. She's just kissing me. On the lips. But really passionately," he added.

"Well, what's wrong with that?" I had to admit I was pretty lost.

"It's… inappropriate. Borderline embarrassing. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with it."

 _Hmm. Isn't Eva the religious one in the couple?! He's probably more discreet than I believed. Alright. Think, Hynek, think. I could simply tell him to be honest with her. After that, they will probably find a compromise and spent a few more months together until he gets tired of her, changes his number and breaks her heart just like I knew he would._

 _Or I could_ not _tell him and make it much quicker. You know what they say about band-aids..._

"Try having bad breath," I said, struggling not to giggle. For a while, there was nothing but silence.

"Never mind. Thanks for listening to me. Bye bye."

* * *

 _(A/N: Maťo = a Slovak equivalent for "Mattie")_

* * *

A month later, I ran into Eva who was just doing the weekly shopping. Her cart was overflowing with kippers, blue cheese, garlic bread and powdered onion soup.

"For Maťo." She smiled sweetly. "He's been crazy about them lately."

"Doesn't it bother you? You see, smooching and stuff," I wondered.

"Well, he does get a bit self-conscious. He tries not to kiss me too much, but, honestly, it only makes me want him more. I love it when he tastes of my favorite food!"

* * *

 **Prague, still in 2004**

"She drinks too much when she's over at my place," Matthew sighed.

 _Knowing her, she probably just doesn't appreciate the taste of local water. But he doesn't need to know that, does he?_

"Oh, that. Don't worry about it. The booze is like a fuel to our whole family. She can't help it and it's not like it could kill her, aren't I right? Just make sure you always have plenty at home. Plenty, _plenty_. So she won't get mad."

Silence.

"I'm…. not sure whether I like this," he admitted at last. _Now we're getting somewhere,_ I thought in satisfaction.

"Chill out, You'll get used to it. That's the price to pay for a piece of Slavic beauty."

The next time I borrowed Eva's computer to Google something, the autocomplete suggested 'what to do if someone is shopping excessively and refuses to admit it'. I concluded that both of them were clever enough not to lose time with an alcoholic/a shopaholic and could basically already hear random guys whispering that Eva Kučerová was single again.

So I lit up a celebratory cigarette and went on searching 'what to do if my boss seems attracted to me' (please don't ask).

* * *

 **Prague, 2005**

Only God knows how and why, but a year later, they were still together. That was when it all got pretty intriguing.

"Shopping is all she wants to do these days…" he moaned in sheer despair.

"Really. What is she buying?"

"Mmm." He took a moment to think. "Clothes. Mostly underwear."

I smiled despite myself. That couldn't get any clearer, could it? She was buying lingerie to get his interest. To get him to peek inside the changing room, see her wearing it, possibly help her take it off. In other words, she was ready to take their relationship to another level. _But we don't want that happening, do we?!_

"I see. It's getting expensive, isn't it?"

"Not really. She seems to have a knack for sniffing out bargains. I just get bored waiting for her outside the changing room."

At that stage, I would have sworn he was pulling my leg.

"Then buy yourself a PSP," I joked back. _I'd like to have your GDP and your love problems, man._

* * *

 **On the Way to Visegrad Four Meeting, still in 2005**

Women change once they've known a man. It's difficult to describe - as if, all of a sudden, they had a deeper understanding of the world and the people living in it. Especially their own selves.

Intimacy is a part of every healthy relationship and at some point, you inevitably start longing for that ultimate physical closeness. Even so, despite almost two years of having a boyfriend, Eva was still as pure as the day I first met her. And didn't really seem all that frustrated about it.

"Come on, there must be something you don't like about him."

I almost bit my tongue off as she jammed on the breaks, trying to prevent a speeding BMW from turning us into mush.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER?!" she yelled out of the window. "Well… he does have this weird habit of buying tons of alcohol despite barely drinking any," she continued in a soft tone. "At first I was worried, but then I concluded that there were worse addictions in the world. And, just between us, it gives me an excuse to drink more." She chuckled.

"About the game console he carries everywhere. Don't you feel neglected?"

"Not at all!" she exclaimed. "Quite the contrary. I kept borrowing it so often that he ended up getting me a matching one! Did you know there are games designed for two?! We're having so much fun now! I actually feel like I'm starting to get to truly know him! We've got so much to discover about each other. And to say I just wanted to rush into -"

She didn't finish the sentence, just blushed really hard, pretending to be reading the road signs which she already knew by heart.

 _Wonderful. So while struggling to set them apart, I only brought them closer together. Alright. I really hoped it wouldn't come to this, but desperate situations call for desperate measures._

I tried my last resort.

"Eva, you do realize that man is responsible for Céline Dion?!"

"I don't mind Céline Dion." She shrugged and smiled.

 _Wow._

 _Her love is both deaf_ and _blind._


	12. Chapter 12

**HYNEK**

 **Montréal, still in 2005**

Matthew seemed particularly restless that day. It took more beer than usual to get it out of him.

"You see… we've been dating for two years now and I... Well, I really think that we are… that we could finally…"

I'd seen enough shitty teen movies to know _exactly_ where it was going, but couldn't help taunting him a bit.

"You could what?"

He replied with the you-know gesture.

"Oh. Open a joint bank account?"

"No. Not really…"

"Give each other all your passwords?! Careful with that. Don't forget to delete the porn first!"

"That's not what I meant," he sighed, chin on the table. "Never mind. Just forget it."

I stopped joking around for a while.

"You want to have sex with her?"

"Don't use that word!" He hid his face in shame. What is it about shy and pure people that just makes you want to tease them more and more?

"No problem. So you want to fuck?"

"That's even worse!" he yelped, but, seeing my grin, he realized it was a joke and relaxed.

"I just think that, you know…" He shrugged. "I can't see a good reason why not."

Despite my tipsiness, I could see a very good reason why not. The same reason why I couldn't sleep peacefully throughout those last two years. The high probability that once he had had his fun and taken all she had, he would leave her heartbroken, humiliated and now possibly pregnant. But he wouldn't. Not if I could help it.

"Are you sure you are ready for the challenge?" I frowned in fake consternation. "You don't seem like much of a ladies' man. No offense, dude."

"None taken. Well, you do have a point. Alfred keeps telling me I should see some other girls to practise, but that just doesn't feel right. Eva is very understanding. Even if she were experienced, I know she wouldn't judge me."

 _Wrong, my friend. Women_ always _judge. It's just that however much they seem to talk, they don't say half of what they think._ I told him so.

"Don't let urban legends fool you. For instance, looks _are_ important. Just imagine - she's going to see you naked. _Completely naked_!"

That didn't have the desired effect.

"People see me naked every other day," he quipped.

Ah, yes. Hockey. Changing rooms and showers. You strip of your self-consciousness along with your sweaty clothes. Furthermore, hunky as he was, he didn't have much to be ashamed of. But every guy has a weak spot.

"And size _does_ matter."

"I'm not worried about that, either." He wouldn't meet my eye, but his grin had grown much wider. Of course. Another changing room effect. You quickly realize whether you're average or not.

"Careful," I said solemnly, trying to ignore that pang of jealously taking over me. "That's a sword that cuts both ways."

(Sword. Hahaha.)

"What do you mean?"

"Well, not all women appreciate well-endowed men. They are scared of possible pain. If they lack experience, it might even put them off for good."

He didn't say a word, but gulped so loudly I could hear it even over the pub noise.

"Anyway, just think it all through." I threw a few bills on the table, ready to go. "You don't want the first time to be the last time, do you?"

* * *

A month later, out of the blue, he called. Said that he knew it was middle of the night at my place, but it was really urgent. I told him that the only acceptable excuse to call a heterosexual male friend at two thirty in the morning is either being in jail or having just had sex for the first time.

(If you were unlucky enough, it was both.)

"So?" I mumbled sleepily.

"Sorry! I'm afraid it's neither. I… I don't really know what to do anymore… I've been thinking about what you said and you know what, you were right. Maybe she's still not ready. Maybe I'm not, either… but… oh, I don't know," he moaned. "She… one moment, she's really cuddly and it's nice and then, all of a sudden, she wants to talk… you know, in that serious, scary way. I don't understand any of it any longer. I think she wants to break up with me..." The last words were uttered so softly I half guessed them.

 _...Or she simply wants to talk about going beyond cuddly. Which would be a colossal mistake and she would regret it till the end of her days, wishing she had waited for the right person. Alright. This is it. It's time to finally get her out of this dead end relationship._

"Listen, Matthew, talking is for girls. Men act. So if you don't want to talk - don't. Period."

"Hmm… shouldn't I, more like, meet her halfway?" he mumbled after a few seconds. "See what's on her mind?"

"This is the whole problem. You hesitate too much. Wonder too much. Be more assertive. Show her you're a man!"

"I believe in equality of sexes, eh?!" he almost snapped back, a tone he didn't use all that much.

"It's more about complementarity. Ladies have their undeniable and unique qualities. Having said that, they all want a strong partner to rely on and let them know the way. It's as simple as that."

Awkward silence, interrupted just by my coughing as I lit up a cigarette the wrong way. _This is it. I've gone too far. He realized at last I have been messing with him since the very beginning. Now he'll…_

"Thanks, Harry. I haven't thought of it that way. Sorry again for waking you up. Have a good one." And then, just _beep beep beep_.

 _Good. If there's something Eva really can't stand, it's arrogant and sullen men. The affair is as good as over._

That night, for the first time in years, I slept like a baby.

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **Vilnius, 2005**

 _Stebuklas_ means a miracle.

When I look back at my past, it seems to me that I have a right to one miracle per century. This one only just started, but I can't imagine ever wanting anything more than I want her. I finally make up my mind and walk all the way to the place where my last miracle happened. And freeze as I make out the familiar silhouette. _Impossible. I haven't even made the wish yet…_

But I quickly realize it isn't right. Curled up into a ball, the poor thing looks tired, defeated and hurt.

"Is this where miracles happen?" she inquires as she sees me approach. What a heart-wrenching sight she is.

"Miss Kučerová." I take her hand and pull her up. "Miracles don't happen while you sit on your bottom and wait."

"So how does it work then?" Sometimes, she reminds me of a confused little girl. Whom she probably never really stopped being.

"You need to provoke them. Ask, at least. Step on the Tile, turn around three times and make the wish. Don't pronounce it, just think about it really hard."

She nods, then follows the instructions. One turn. Second turn. Third, fourth, fifth, sixth and a couple more until she loses her sense of orientation and falls into my arms (for the second time), instantly bursting to tears. I let her cry it all out. I can't do much more.

I walk her to her hotel. I can tell she does not feel like talking, so I don't insist. Once she's safely inside, I return to the Tile, turn three times and wish for her to be happy. I wouldn't stand seeing her like that again.

* * *

 _(A/N: I didn't try*, so I don't know about the wish-granting powers, but the Tile does exist. You'll find it right in front of the Vilnius cathedral. It marks one end of the Baltic Chain of Freedom._

 _*I got distracted by the KFC across the road)_


	13. Chapter 13

**TORIS**

 **Athens, still in 2005**

Morning. World Conference. The first time I see her since that episode in Vilnius. She looks only slightly less miserable now. And, of course, she won't meet my eye. I'm worried about her, but don't quite know what to do.

Eduard sits down next to me. He's just got rejected by the cool kids again - they're only in for the cheap booze, anyway - so he settled for his geeky old friend.

"Don't let them bring you down, comrade. You _are_ beautiful. Never doubt it."

"Idiot." He kicks me under the table while I snicker.

For a while, we sit there in silence until Eva's man enters. There's a free seat right next to her (which I assumed she was saving for him), but he just passes it by. They don't acknowledge each other, not even the smallest surreptitious look. He finds a place on the other side of the room and, mere seconds later, Ivan slumps down on him. Ha! Serves you right for giving silent treatment to such a wonderful girl!

"Not that I'm surprised," Ed hisses to me. "They've been going out for _years_ and still haven't done it? No wonder they're fighting."

"What makes you think they haven't done it?" I mutter.

"Isn't it obvious?!"

I dare a glance at her, then at him (busy fighting off the, in my opinion, pretty-conscious-of-his-own-actions Slav), but since neither is wearing a 'STILL VIRGIN' badge, I can't quite tell.

"No, it isn't. So, how did it happen? Let me guess: you were hit by a lightning and since then you can read people's minds."

"I don't need to read anyone's mind." He rolls his eyes. "For crying out loud, just look at him! I recognize a miserable sexless man when I see one."

I grin.

"Too much looking in the mirror, Estija."

* * *

Early afternoon. Slavic heritage seminar. This time, I'm sitting next to her. After a while, I realize she's silently crying. This is it. I'm taking her somewhere private, not letting go until she tells me.

* * *

I can't believe it. Eduard was right. Well, half right. They haven't done it yet! THEY HAVE NOT DONE IT YET! But not because of her… on the contrary. Happy at first with the absence of pressure, she's getting frustrated now.

In a way, it _does_ make sense. She has grown to be desirable, well read and independent. He is terrified of disappointing her and, by extension, losing her. Doubly so considering there are dozens of other bachelors lurking around.

The thing is, her female logic interprets the lack of intimacy as a lack of affection. In other words: she fears he doesn't love her any longer.

Oh, Eva. If only you wanted me. You would never have that kind of problem in the first place.

* * *

 **HYNEK**

The morning after the late-night phone call, I bought plenty of sweets to keep at home or carry in my briefcase at all times. So I would be ready when she comes crying on my shoulder about the breakup. But she never did.

Then, one day in Athens, my phone started to ring. And I instantly knew something had happened. Without so much as checking the caller's ID, I hit the reply button.

"MAAAAN!" Alfred's voice blared from the other side. Clearly he had already had one too many. "Come emergency! It's a quick!

 _Yes. This is it._

"Something to do with your brother?"

"How didyu know?! Whateva. Yeah, he's here wimme. Just get your here over ass this infant!"

 _This is it. They finally split up. Praise the Lord!_

I needed to be on Eva's side now, spent time with her rather than drinking myself to oblivion with her ex and his brother. But she wasn't answering my calls, so I decided to see the guys anyway and check the temperature.

Headed outside, I started to dial the American again to ask him where they were in the first place, when, suddenly, I heard him shout my name. I turned around and followed his voice, soon ending up in the hotel bar.

And there he was, sitting in the middle of the crowd, his arms wrapped around the familiar Canadian and an equally familiar Lithuanian. Both looked like they would have much rather died than kept living that moment.

"Mattie here hajust loss his viginity!" Al shouted as he saw me. He reached out to open another bottle of _ouzo_ (or try) and Litva took advantage of that to slip out of his near-deadly grip. Matthew wasn't that lucky. He shot the Baltic a pleading look, but all Toris had for him was his middle finger. Which would have been pretty hilarious in different circumstances.

"Thisis my bro!" Alfred announced proudly to everybody around. "He just had sex! With _a girl_!

For a second or so, I wondered whether a straight guy getting it on with another guy counted as losing virginity. Before I could figure it out, the desperate blond turned to look at me.

 _No, my friend. I'm not getting you out of here. You play, you pay._

* * *

 **TORIS**

"Alright. Let me get this straight." Eduard frowned. "You actually explained to her how to break the ice and get him to fuck her?!"

"Don't you use that word!" I instantly snapped. He didn't seem moved.

"Fucking, screwing, getting to know each other better, having relations, lovemaking… what does it matter if it's not you doing it?"

Alas, he wasn't totally wrong.

"Yeah, I get it," I grumbled. "The only thing I'm entering anytime soon is her friendzone. Ha fucking ha."

"Entering it?! Toris, you're so deep in the friendzone that if they sent someone to rescue you, halfway there, they would die of old age!"

* * *

I could have ignored Alfred's roaring to the whole hotel bar that his brother had just got laid. I could have ignored his brother's guilt and embarrassment as he fought to break free from the American's arms. But I couldn't ignore the look on Eva's face when I crossed her in the corridor right after.

That blush on her cheeks. That spark in her eyes. Those lips, plump with the new flavor of life they had just discovered...

As soon as she saw me, she reddened even more, mumbled an awkward hello and rushed away. She had nothing to tell me. Another man had made her his.


	14. Chapter 14

**TORIS**

 **Vienna Airport, 2007**

My boss has been pretty harsh since EU refused to let me adopt euro last year. Inflation rate too high, apparently. Which only happened because I'm trying to take good care of my kids. Including him. Pffff. Talk about irony.

Anyway, he believes me to be in one of Austrian ministries, negotiating some deal about nitrogen fertilizers. And I'm just sitting here in the Schwechat departure hall with a laptop on my knees. But it's not a plane I'm waiting for. _She_ should be here any minute. Her own airport is too small to operate trans-Atlantic flights. Luckily, Vienna is just around the corner.

Am I stalking her?! Of course not! Stalkers are people who…

Alright. I guess I'm stalking her a little bit.

Please don't tell on me.

Anyway, you know what? _She_ is the real stalker here! Heaven knows I've tried to forget her. And I _did_. I forgot her every day. Even so, the next morning, her shadow was always back. Looking out of the window, making tea for two or just lying on my bed with a book.

"You don't need me, so why won't you leave me?" I asked as I woke up next to her one morning. "I need you to go, Eva. I need to move on."

But she just laughed as if it was the silliest thing she'd ever heard and kissed my nose.

For some time, I thought I was brushing insanity. Following Nice Lady's recommendations, I concentrated on my life as a country. It wasn't helping. You must have heard my story - the struggle for independence was long and bloody. Only recently did my children acquire basic citizen freedoms. I was my own king. And then, I became a part of a bigger whole, the famous European Union. There were new rules to comply with, compromises to make, sometimes just keeping my mouth shut and smiling. See what I mean? In a way, I felt like I was living in chains again. Worst of all, this time, I'd put them on myself.

Then, as I was trying not to doze off at the 2007 European Heritage Seminar, my eyes fell on my two Baltic brothers. Ed was sulking following another Nordic rejection and Raivis seemed busy figuring out how to play his gameboy without others noticing. This wasn't the kind of problems they had twenty years before. And I happily concluded that all in all, we were doing pretty well.

It was probably the most boring lecture of my life. The upside was that Eva (the real one) fell asleep on my shoulder, mumbling something from her dream, snuggling still closer. _I'm sorry, but I'm not your man,_ I was about to tell her.

"Mmm, you smell nice," she slurred just then. So I mentally shrugged and enjoyed that delightful wink of destiny.

* * *

The Nice Lady kept me busy. After days full of paperwork, she would send me to parties. Not necessarily in diplomatic circles and not always with a male majority. There would be sportswomen, artists, sometimes even models. After a while, I realized she was trying to get me to date. So I gave it a shot - the least I could do, after all. But it was no good. Somehow, they were always too young. Too old. Too ginger. Too blond. Too withdrawn. Too vulgar. They just... weren't Eva.

But Eva did not seem meant for me. So I decided to try harder.

"Hi, I'm Toris. I'm going to get myself a drink. It would be much more pleasant if you decided to join me."

A strand of jet-black hair slid out of her bob as she finished the mojito. A kickbox teacher, or something alike. She kept calling me a wrong name. Her voice could have pierced an eardrum, but she was pleasant to the eye and wasn't necessarily looking for anything serious. So, following some ethanol-based encouragement, I brought her home. Things moved directly from the entry hall to the bedroom. Some clothes were already lying on the floor and more were about to join them when...

"Who's that bitch?!" a familiar voice suddenly spat. Still in the bedroom doorway, I paused in kissing the girl's neck and looked up to see _her_ sitting on my bed, frowning with disgust.

"Eva," I gasped. Which earnt me a whack so hard it practically propelled me onto the bed. For a second or two, I saw white.

"THAT'S _NOT_ MY NAME!" the kickboxer screeched. Next thing I knew, the front door slammed shut. And I passed out.

Next morning, the shadow of Eva was still in my bed, smiling, kissing my sore face. It felt bad and, as I later found out, looked even worse.

"Happy now?" I moaned into the pillow.

"Oh, come on," my cute hallucination cooed, "she was small-minded. Hysterical. And you can't deny that empty coffee-flavored ice cream wrapper sticking out of her bag. She would only make you miserable."

"And deaf," I added. We both burst out laughing.

That day, I stopped running. When Eva's ghost made us tea, I thanked her. If I saw her next to the window, I asked her what she was looking at. And every time I found her in my bed, I would confiscate her book, hug her and turn off the light.

Months went by and somehow, I came to terms with myself. I learnt to enjoy my life as a bachelor. And to be happy about her shadows and those drops of attention the real her would sometimes give me. That love, even though unfulfilled, was still the best thing that ever happened to me. Like a piece of bacon on the garden salad of life.


	15. Chapter 15

**HYNEK**

 **Prague, 2005-7**

Ivan had fucked up our lives pretty thoroughly, but he did respect one thing - Eva's innocence. Even _he_ drew a line there.

But now, the deed was done. The line was crossed.

As for me, there wasn't much I could do. Except regularly polishing all my guns, trying to decide which one I would use on him once he dumped her.

Yet again, no such thing happened. Quite the contrary, actually.

Eva seemed somehow taller, healthier. And they started to look more like a couple. As if some kind of invisible ice wall between them had melted. They would be together all the time, sometimes smiling, sometimes serious, whispering to each other, pointing at something on their computer screens or in their books, then talking about it, occasionally kissing and cuddling.

Before I knew it, 2007 came and there was another Visegrad Four meeting to get ready for. Having gone through Feliks's and Erzi's files, I found a bottle of something over 50% (just not absinth. Trust me, it's a long, dolorous story.) and finally opened Eva's. I usually left it for the end - it was always the least cheerful one.

 _'...one of the quickest-growing economies in the EU... about to be officially declared a developed country... attracting investors from abroad... GDP 60% higher than in 1989...'_

I couldn't believe what I saw. She wasn't just growing. She was _blooming_.

Thanks to _him_.

Matthew marked my words and lived by them. She had the potential and the resources, he brought the know-how she so desperately lacked. He became the strong man she needed; he took her hand and showed her the way.

And I... I was the biggest goddamn moron in the whole fucking universe.

That was why, when, a little later, he confessed he was about to propose to her, I yelped an instant yes on her behalf.

"Yes what?" He frowned. I felt like slapping myself.

"Yes like it's a definitely good idea," I improvised. "I'll be happy to help should you need me."

"Oh. Now that you said that..."

He wanted to surprise her and I was supposed to make sure Eva would be home that evening. I would come over, we'd do some work and then look at stupid stuff on the internet and drink beer until the royal escort came for her. Easy peasy.

As she waved me goodbye, all dressed up like a future bride should be, I heaved a happy sigh. _She is finally well taken care of. Nothing could go wrong now._

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **Brussels, still in 2007**

Animals feel when bad things are about to happen and the wolf within me never really died. Perhaps _that_ drove me to seek a little bit of Eva's sweetness that evening at the Belgian embassy. I was just going through my notes from our last meeting and needed to have some numbers confirmed. I could have sent her an email, but I figured it was a nice excuse to call her house. Čekija replied.

"Is Eva around? I needed a quick word with her."

"She left minutes ago. Can I help you?"

"Nah, don't worry. I'll just call her mobile."

"I'm pretty sure she has no network right now."

I could feel he was dying to tell me why, so I asked. He didn't need much more.

"She's going to get married, dude!"

Have you ever heard of a phenomenon called "sense of impending doom"? Well... that about summed up my reaction.

"W… I'm sorry, what?!" I choked out at last, wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"He prepared a very special date and is going to propose. In _Buckingham Palace_! She is going to say yes, that's for sure."

Worst of all, it wasn't even his kidding voice.

"You mean, like, church and a giant cake and everything?!"

"Of course not!" He laughed. "They'll just sign some papers. It's a political thing, planned by both their bosses. He told me he wasn't quite ready for a personal engagement yet. There'll be one hell of a party, though."

That sounded wrong, so wrong. Eva didn't distinguish between those two. The picture of her in tears filled my mind. And, all of a sudden, the fear and feeling of futility turned into fiery anger.

"And you're letting that happen?! You, of all people!"

Silence.

"Care to explain?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I thought you'd sworn to protect her! Get only the best for her!"

"And what could be better than this? He'll get all the advantages of an EU member and she will become a part of the Commonwealth. Not bad, given how many of her kids are living out there. Just think about it! Global warming is a real deal. Before we know it, his lands will be the only ones with acceptable living conditions. She'll just take her people and move over there. With all that space and resources, he won't even notice a few more millions of people running around. Name one country who wouldn't die to trade places with her!"

It was reasonable, wasn't it? So why was I hearing her weep more and more clearly with every second?!

"I… I need to go." And I hung up. She'd had her share of heart-breaking political unions. This one was going to be one too many. I couldn't let it happen. I called my ambassador in UK, but he just laughed. _Well, fuck you very much,_ I though. _I'm going to have to do this myself._

As I was leaving my office to get a taxi to the airport, I ran into the Nice Lady. _Oh shit. I totally forgot about our meeting!_

"Just... go." She rolled her eyes, not without a hint of smile. I eagerly obeyed.

* * *

 **HYNEK**

I walked back inside to get my car keys when, suddenly, her landline started to ring. It was Litva. He said he needed something from Eva. I explained she was busy. And, not quite sure why, I told him all about it. At my place we rarely talk about things before they actually happen - it brings bad luck. Alas, at that moment, I was far too elated to remember that basic, centuries-old rule. Serves me right.


	16. Chapter 16

**TORIS**

 **Brussels Airport, the same night**

"We're fully booked."

"But this is a matter of utmost importance!"

"We're fully booked, sir."

"Please. _Please_. If I don't get there in time, the most wonderful girl in the whole wide world will completely ruin her future!"

"We are still fully booked," the employee repeated with the do-I-look-like-I-care? expression.

"Alright. In that case, I'd like to talk to your manager."

"Somebody looking for me?" Another woman entered the office. I instantly recognized the accent. And she instantly recognized my face.

"Come on, Maryse," she said to the clerk, never interrupting our eye contact. "I bet we can find a free seat for Mr. Laurinaitis."

" _Ačiu,_ " I breathed in relief.

" _Prašom,_ " the manager beamed back at me.

 _All in all, it is not such a bad thing to have my children emigrating westwards,_ I had to admit, buckling up in my giant business class seat.

Eva must have landed in the meantime. When I tried to call her, my battery suddenly died. The flight attendant provided a charger, but, by the time I could use it again, we were already high in the sky. Conscious there was not much I could do for the time being, I dozed off. A while later, the same attendant woke me up.

"Sir, we're almost in Birmingham."

"Mmmmkay… Wait, WH-WHAT?!"

Earlier at the Brussels airport, I said I needed to get to Buckingham. They probably concluded I meant Birmingham. And I was too feverish to check. _What an idiot! Idiot! Idiot! Now I'll never get to London in time. And she..._

I grabbed my phone and called Eva's mobile over and over until, thank goodness, she answered.

"Eva Kučerová, you have to trust me! It's not a good idea! Please, please, _please_ don't say yes!" I went on and on, until I realized the background noise on her side curiously reminded me of the one all around myself.

"Toris." She took a deep breath. "I've got no fucking idea _how_ you can possibly be privy to this, but I'm going to say yes."

For a second I felt like my core was cracking open.

"They don't offer you complimentary alcohol at boarding every day," she continued. "And I need it today more than ever."

"B-boarding?!" I gasped.

"Yes. I'm currently flying home." I could hear her taking a big gulp.

"W-weren't you invited to London?!"

I realized I wasn't supposed to know, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I hadn't even said hello to Maťo when my boss called and gave me the news. I rushed back to Heathrow right away. Can we please talk another time? We're about to take off."

"Sure…"

"Thanks. And don't worry, we're all fighters. We'll make it through. Take care, Toris."

I didn't know what those last sentences meant, but it seemed unimportant. I headed to the nearest café for a celebratory drink. Their TV tuned to the news channel provided all the answers.

"...sub-prime mortgages... US debt... global economy going into freefall..."

From then on, I would hear those words on every corner.

* * *

"I have to say I'm rather impressed," the Nice Lady told me the next day. "I honestly thought you would be the first one to… you know..."

"Run a bullet through my head?" I asked. She shrugged.

"You know, what with the news and your already pretty high suicide rate..."

"We're all fighters. We'll make it through," I declared in the same voice I'd declared my independence years ago, then gave her a confident smile. Astounded as she was, she instantly returned it.

* * *

 **HYNEK**

Back in Prague, I was surprised to see the light was on in my house. _Did she fly back just to give me the big news? Of course not. They are probably in one of the royal beds right now, busy celebrating their future union._

Litva was in Brussels, Gilbert somewhere in Argentina, Feliks in church. And if it was not Eva...

I unlocked the door, the other hand clutching onto my favorite semi-automatic.

"You chose the wrong house, you - ! Alfred, what the... ?!"

"Fuick! Lof the door again!"

I complied, then walked over to him. He seemed to be on a verge of nervous breakdown, wrapped up in a blanket and shoveling in potato chips as it if was his only purpose in life. About fifteen empty bags were lying all around.

"Minf if I fay here foa while?" A drop of liquefied chips landed on my eyebrow.

"Certainly not. What's up?"

"I gafer you hamn't heard fe newfs..." With a shaky hand, he reached out for the remote and turned the TV on.

"...sub-prime mortgages... US debt... global economy going into freefall..."

Throughout the whole time, his eyes just wouldn't leave my face. Once I'd done the math, I had to remind myself that the man could have killed me twenty or so years ago, but decided against it.

"You're not gonna kick me out, are you? They'll eat me alive!"

I took a deep breath.

"Of course not. You'll be safe here. And if somebody comes sniffing around, I still have that truck full of ammo you've sent me back in 2003."

* * *

 **TORIS**

Please don't get the wrong idea. Throughout the years to come, I struggled just as much as everybody. If not more. But if that was the price of Eva Kučerová not heading into another heart-wrenching dead end marriage, I was more than happy to pay it.

It moved Alfred to tears I wasn't angry with him. How could I? He'd done me one hell of a favor.


	17. Chapter 17

**Double chapter today! :)**

* * *

 **TORIS**

Time went by and we all grew weaker with the seven day workweeks and omnipresent budget cutting. Luxurious business hotels and restaurants were empty, so were the conference rooms. Teleworking became the word, especially for those from behind the ocean. I quickly got used to seeing Eva unaccompanied.

"I haven't seen Maťo in more than a year. He doesn't go to Europe anymore." I overheard her complaining to one of her colleagues. "I told him I could come to Ottawa, but he keeps saying he'd rather we see each other once we're a tad less busy."

Strange. With the modern technology, travelling was no longer a problem. And how could you _not_ want to see your beloved for such a long time?!

* * *

I never liked the days when I worked at NATO. Even the small talk was somehow always military-related. But the HQ were in Brussels and that meant freshly made fries. With lots of ketchup and mayo, of course.

That day, as I was happily getting back from the city to my office, I slipped on the wet floor and my mouth-watering snack went flying all over the corridor. After a second of desperation, a wicked idea crossed my mind. It was a gloomy area full of empty offices where nobody ever went. And, obviously, the floor had just been cleaned. I looked from left to right to check, then went down on my knees and happily bit into the first fry. Halfway done, my bliss was interrupted by Laura's voice.

"...plenty of empty offices where nobody ever goes. You will not be bothered."

"Thank you."

Hearing the familiar half whisper, I almost choked on my lunch. What was _he_ doing there?!

"Laura, say…"

"Mmmm?"

"It's just that… you are such a wonderful girl."

She giggled.

"Thank you."

"I was wondering… do you think we could… you know, one day, after work…"

I stopped breathing not to miss the rest of the sentence, but it got suffocated by a ringtone.

"I have to get this," she said apologetically. "See you around, Mattie."

 _Mattie?! What the…?_

And before I could move, "Mattie" entered the corridor and just stood there, gaping, glancing from me to the fries.

"We haven't seen each other," he mumbled after a while, then turned around to disappear.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. I _did_ see you."

He stopped in his tracks.

"You can tell _everyone_ I eat from the floor. I just don't care." I didn't. Throughout my life, I've learnt not only to swallow my pride, but bury it in an ironclad box on a different planet in a different galaxy. "But I _did_ see you. And I can't think of a single good reason why not to casually mention that to Eva."

Defeated, he hid his face for a while. Then, without looking at me, he entered the nearest office, inviting me in.

* * *

"The first month of her absence was strange - I wasn't used to solitude anymore. Until, suddenly, I started to feel kind of… nice. As if an invisible weight had been lifted off my back. My headaches disappeared completely. I realized I didn't mind Eva not being around. She has many qualities, I would never claim the opposite, eh?! Even so… well, every time I imagined being with her again, my migraine came back. _Of course_ I kept coming to Europe. I had to - I'm a country, holy maple! I just… somehow never mentioned that to her."

I didn't know what to say, so I just waited for him to go on.

"Then, one time, my flight back home was delayed. Laura, whom I ran into at the airport, suggested I use her guest room. She seemed sincere and I was happy to save some money in this uncertain climate. So I followed her home."

I had a pretty good idea about what came next, but decided to give him the benefit of doubt.

"Now's the moment where you tell me that nothing happened between you two."

"On the contrary!" he exclaimed in pure bliss. " _Everything_ happened!"

I buried my nails deeper in the armchair, leaving marks in the tissue. _How dare you, you revolting, spineless -_

"We listened to music, watched quizzes on TV and played cards until dawn. And then, we watched the sunrise from her balcony and she made waffles for breakfast and it was all truly wonderful," he breathed. For a while, it seemed like there was a tear forming in the corner of his eye, but before I could look closer, he turned away. I was pretty confused by then.

"So you're just going to throw away years of relationship because of... what? TV marathons and waffles?!" I gasped.

"You know, I… those are all small things, yes, but… all together, they start to matter. My point being that such a night could never happen with Eva. We don't like the same kind of music. And, in those rare cases when we manage to meet halfway, she instantly wants to dance. I don't really like dancing that much. When we watch quizzes, she always blurts out the answer and spoils the fun for me. She never plays cards, never watches the sunrise because she likes to sleep in…"

 _The dancing_. She shared that cute condition with Feliks. If you put on something they like and they are not swirling around the place seconds later, you better call a doctor.

 _The quizzes_. An inferiority complex. Look how clever I am. Notice me!

 _The cards._ I'd asked her about that once. She said she used to play them in trenches during every war she could remember. The power of association...

 _And the sleep…_ personally, if I don't have to, I don't get up early either. Even though I am already too alert to drift back to slumber. Why? Because I can. One way to remind myself I'm free. I haven't always been. She neither.

"It's hard to explain," the teenager went on. "It was just so… good. So natural. When I'm seeing Eva, it's eighty percent compromising and twenty percent joy. With Laura, it was the other way around! I felt like that special night, we… connected. Yup, that's the word. We connected, eh?!"

"Mmm, just to make sure I've got the whole picture. You two didn't have relations, did you?"

"No! And see? That's the worst of all!" he moaned. "That could never happen with Eva!"

"Sorry, _what_ are you talking about?"

"She… you know. _All_ the time."

"She… what?!"

"You _know_."

"No I don't. What -"

"SHE WANTS TO FUCK ALL THE TIME!" he snapped so loudly that my ear drum barely made it through.

Silence.

 _Oh my hell. This isn't happening. He hasn't just said that. He hasn't… I haven't… he couldn't..._

Needless to say that was beyond all my expectations. So much so that for a while, I forgot how to speak. As for him, he forgot how to be himself, yelling at me all the spicy details of their sex life, even using some more swear words.

"...Four times! Seriously, FOUR TIMES IN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS! I mean, in a world of infinite possibilities, why would anyone want to…"

Then, I blacked out on his discourse.

"...so, what do you think?" he asked in his usual almost whisper once the storm ended.

What was I thinking? Well…

1\. I've just witnessed Canada being utterly ill-mannered, lacking discretion and actually SHOUTING. It was like… like world divided by zero. Something nobody should ever witness. _Ever._

2\. My brain shut down during the worst part. God _does_ love me after all.

3\. They have a problem. A colossal one.

I was dying to stand up for Eva and put him back in his place. On the other hand, I could still feel the room vibrate with his shouting echoing against the walls. He wasn't just frustrated. He was traumatised and totally freaked out.

"Have you tried telling her that, you know, you don't want to spend that much time in the bedroom?"

"No! Of course not!" he gasped.

"Why?!"

"Isn't it obvious?!"

"Err… no."

"I didn't want her to get me wrong. Feel offended. And, most importantly, I didn't want to lose my face as a man."

 _Alright._ I took a deep breath _. I don't know_ who _put the last idea in your head, but I'm pretty sure they have always been single._

Most members of my kind had grown promiscuous over the ages. Sex, along with alcohol and drugs, was an excellent way to forget our past, present and future for a while. And there were plenty of things I doubted at that time of my life, but one of them was for sure - Eva didn't have sex. Eva made love. Every single time.

He was her first, her only and she wouldn't even consider letting anyone else touch her. She didn't just desire his body; she desired the closeness. The bond. The feeling that, for a moment, he was hers and hers only. She loved him. Loved him with everything she had and he should have been flattered. Proud. Grateful. But not -

"Oh, one more thing - I just can't stand her perfume," he added casually.

"You needed five years to notice that?" I realized I was now growling.

"Not really. At the time we met, she was wearing some classy French brand. In the meantime, I bought her a couple of other fragrances. But now she keeps repeating she feels like getting back to basics and started using some kind of odd homemade brew. It's, err, most peculiar."

 _Oh, dear Lord._

The "peculiar perfume" was something Eva made out of the flowers from her forests and meadows. She had given me a bottle as a keepsake before leaving Moscow. It evaporated quickly, so I only ever opened it when I missed her the most. Technically, it was her natural body scent. He did not like her natural body scent. He didn't like _her_. He…

He didn't love her.

"Anyway, thank you for listening to me. I suddenly feel so much better."

A part of me felt like grabbing his hair and smacking his face against the table. Another part whispered that he'd decided to trust me, told me the truth and if my reaction was disproportionate now, it might mark him forever.

But most of all and once again… I kind of understood him. The way he claimed he felt around Laura was how I felt for Eva. With her, I was weightless. Impossible seemed within my reach. Loving her was easy and it came naturally. And it was all stronger than me.

Not sure how, I managed a half smile.

"No problem. Now tell it all to her."

His face clouded over again.

"I promise I'll tell her the next time we talk."

He wasn't a bad person, but had this unfortunate habit of hiding a ticking bomb in his drawer and pretending it didn't exist (kind of like me). Until it exploded, destroying everything around. I didn't want to see Eva being destroyed like that.

"You're going to tell her within a week," I declared.

"That's way too short a notice! I… need to prepare it, eh?! And…"

"You're just making it worse for both of you. You know what they say about band-aids."

"Wait." He suddenly frowned, about to take a big brave step towards adulthood. "I'm not saying I won't tell her, but the decision remains mine. I'll do it the way I choose to do it, at the time I deem proper. You've got no means to force my hand. What can you possibly do, eh? Tell her? Who says she'll believe you in the first place?"

"Nobody." I shrugged. "That's why I will _not_ tell her. As I said, _you_ will."

"Or what?!"

"Yes, you're right." I paused a little, pretending to think. "Totally right. Compared to you, I'm small, poor, underdeveloped and insignificant. What can I possibly do?! So I guess you're staying with Eva and I'll just have to give up on her for good. Find another sweet young lady to relight my flame again. A certain Belgian, maybe…"

Of course I wasn't going to do that. I had a feeling Laura liked me - that's why I put a premature end to our French lessons. Giving her empty hope now would be a cruel thing to do. I wasn't that kind of person, thank you very much. But he didn't need to know that, did he?

In a flash, blood drained from his face, filling me with unparalleled satisfaction. I was a pretty good politician, after all.


	18. Chapter 18

**HYNEK**

The first year of the crisis was particularly hard for me. My financial system wasn't exactly weak, but the long period of surprise buttsex from the central planning had its consequences. Plus, I didn't want to cut down on import of Eva's products, so I had to find the funds elsewhere.

Meetings went on and on and I wouldn't have come to that year's European Week if it hadn't been held in Bratislava. She suggested I could stay in her apartment. I thought it would be a nice opportunity to catch up with her and her personal life.

Getting back from Johannesburg, I ran into some other guys at the Vienna airport. Together, we hailed a taxi and, once we crossed the border, we found ourselves a nice pub where to give the Slovak economy a boost while getting pleasantly drunk. I volunteered to pay for everything. I had something to celebrate, but couldn't tell anyone just yet.

At the first gulp of her best beer, my eyes started to prickle. It was really good - she hadn't forgotten a word of what I'd taught her. I ordered a few more. It was as if I could feel her in every single drop. Suddenly, I saw her walking through the village with a basket full of stray motherless kittens, colorful ribbons dancing around her hair, driving the cats wild. Wearing a burn around her mouth for she just couldn't resist biting into that freshly made cake. Waking me up on Christmas morning to tell me that the lake had frozen, that we could finally go play hockey. At first, I would let her win, but soon enough, I didn't need to anymore. Even less so since, recently, the best hockey player in the world had taken her under his wing. And yet…

And yet, every single time she beat me in the skating ring, whether it was behind my house or in front of the whole world, she would come to me, hug me tight and whisper: "Thank you for letting me win."

The more I drank, the more my heart ached. I missed her. I missed her so much I wanted to cry. So I called her.

Alcohol alters reality. You feel like you're making the most wonderful declaration of love ever while actually talking like a retard. Eva didn't say much throughout my call and never mentioned it afterwards. God bless that girl.

* * *

 **TORIS**

I gave Canada a week because within that time, I was staying at her place and would be there for her if needed. Upon my landing in Vienna, I ran into a couple of other guys and stopped for drinks. Čekija had too many of them, so many I actually ended up driving him to her house. It was a great opportunity to check on her.

She welcomed the two of us with a smile I couldn't quite describe. He passed out within minutes and suddenly, we were alone. She suggested a drink and I was more than eager to accept.

She didn't seem happy, neither torn apart. _Perhaps she's going through denial,_ I thought, but didn't linger on it. The magic of the moment (the two of us alone! At her place!) was getting to me, overshadowing my reasoning capacities and awareness of reality. I could tell she felt the same way. The more we drank, the less we worried. And the closer we were getting to each other, both mentally and physically. She slowly turned playful, bubbly, flirtatious. One thing led to another and suddenly, I was holding her in my arms, our eyes locked. A part of me was worried things would end up in bed; I didn't know whether that would be acceptable. Until another part of me shouted that was the woman I loved, that was the moment I waited for and that I should…

 _Tell her. Tell her now._

But before I could do anything, she closed her eyes and drifted to slumber.

* * *

 **HYNEK**

Next morning, I woke up in her guest room, still fully dressed and with an awful headache. Up to this day, I still don't know how I got there. And at this point I'm too afraid to ask.

Rubbing my temples, I sat up and checked my phone. There were some texts, one from her.

While we were living together, we had a joint bank account on false names which we never closed. It came handy, especially when we didn't want our bosses to know what we were up to. Right now, she was telling me that I didn't have to worry about that outrageous amount debited by Air Canada. That it was her. I imagined them together and smiled to myself. Surely they were currently resuming their wedding talk. He would take care of her, make her happy. I thought I could symbolically resell my Shadow Line to pay them a lovely gift. Completely unsuspecting, I fell asleep again.


	19. Chapter 19

**HYNEK**

When Eva got back the day after, I expected an over-excited wedding chat, but only got a very concise text. It said she needed to hide in the mountains for a day or two, alone (with a bunch of bridal magazines, I presumed). And whether I could replace her at the European Week. I knew her place and her politicians pretty well, so I didn't mind. Plus, I could use some practice in the field. All my efforts had finally paid up. Yes, now it was official - for the next six months, I was about preside the European Union! THE FRIGGIN EUROPEAN UNION! HOW COOL IS THAT, HUH?! IN YOUR FACE, IVAN!

 _Anyway,_ I mentally cleared my throat, slicked back my hair, re-checked my flawless suit. _Back to the presidential mode._

I was kind of surprised to see Matt at the cocktail party. A good surprise, though. I even hugged him.

"She's not reachable for the moment, surely too busy planning your big day. You could have waited a week more with your proposal," I gently told him off.

"What proposal?" He blinked. It turned out they had actually had a row.

"About what?" I breathed.

"About… everything."

"But…" I still couldn't process the new information. "You… _don't_ have rows."

"I'm afraid there's a first time for everything. And it wasn't just some weightless bickering. We found out a lot about each other. That's why I'm here, actually…" He took a deep breath, then straightened his back and at last, looked me in the eye. "To be honest, I actually came to break up with her."

I blinked.

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, Henry. This needs to be done as quickly as possible. Is there a car rental near here?"

Paralyzed, I just stood there, opening my mouth and closing it again like a dying fish. Only when he bade me farewell did I exit the trance.

"So you think you can just run around popping cherries?!" I shouted so loudly the whole room turned to look at us. But then, they started to bring in champagne and everyone forgot all about us.

"Do you think you can just have your fun and then throw her away? Just like that? Do you _really_ think I'm letting that happen?" I spat. And almost took a step back when, in a flash, his irises went a few shades darker.

"Kindly mind your manners. Despite what they say, I _do_ involve in wars, eh?! And I'll have you know I've won 80% of them so far."

Never before had I seen him like that. I instantly calmed down. The fact that he didn't even raise his voice made it even creepier.

"Don't get me wrong." I had to fight the urge to hold out my hands for protection. "This is not political. I'm appealing to you as a man. Because as soon as you completely lose her, you'll realize just how wonderful she was. Alas, it will be too late."

"I just -"

"She needs you. She _loves_ you. Being loved by a human being - that's not a throwaway. But being loved by an immortal..."

He said nothing, just averted his gaze. My words seemed to be working, although I had no idea where they were rushing from. Wait, I actually do. Personal experience.

"There are ups and downs in every relationship. Just give yourselves another chance, a bit more time, too. There's whole eternity stretching in front of you. I'm sure you don't want to live it in regret."

No reply, just a deep sigh.

"Anyway, they have cars across the street. So long."

A tad later, I caught a glimpse of him jumping into a freshly rented Toyota. On the back seat rested the biggest bouquet of red roses I had ever seen.

* * *

 **TORIS**

When I woke up the next day, she was gone. I wondered whether I should call her, and how much should I wait before doing so. Or just text her? All those questions turned out to be pointless. From then on, she would totally ignore me. Even my business queries were transferred directly to her assistant in Riga. And when, weeks later, I finally caught a glimpse of her and the blond, I suddenly realized her indescribable smile was actually very easy to describe. It was Feliks's smile.

* * *

"I gather you didn't tell her."

The Canadian almost jumped out of his skin, which only confirmed my theory. At least he turned around and tried to face me.

"I… told her some things, but…" His facing me didn't last long.

"But?"

"It kind of… got out of hand."

"Is that so?" I asked sweetly. Telling you I wasn't enjoying my position would be a lie. He shrugged, helpless.

"I see. Which reminds me." I reached into my inner pocket to get my phone, then dialled a number. He just stood there, not sure what was expected of him.

"Hey Laura… Fine and you? ...Glad to hear that. I just wanted to check whether the Saturday dinner was still okay for you…"

I looked at him. Given his expression, he must have heard the girl's happy "Yes!". By the way, the dinner was between the two of us and three politicians on each side. But he didn't need to know that.

"Wonderful… Yeah, that's right. It seems like a pretty good place. I thought, you know, that we would want to eat up before such a busy night," I laughed flirtatiously. She laughed back. The blond didn't laugh. By the busy night I was actually referring to a charity ball, but he didn't need to know that, either.

"Alright. See you there. Bye!" I put the phone away.

"You've always struck me as a nice guy," the blond breathed, his voice full of disappointment and bitterness.

"But nice guys don't get laid, do they?" I smiled and waved him goodbye. "I'm off to the closest pharmacy, if you know what I mean."

To get myself some Gaviscon, but I doubt he knew.


	20. Chapter 20

**HYNEK**

 **Brussels, 2009**

My first day of presiding the EU. I couldn't stop giggling like a hen party participant. Somebody knocked on my office door. I cleared my throat, adjusted my hair, checked my suit. _Presidential mode activated._

"Come in."

Laura walked into my office. There was something sinister about the way her high heels clacked against the floor.

"Good morning."

Instead of returning the greeting, she frowned. She just couldn't stand me and I had no clue why. Worse, she was so adorable and bubbly around everyone else that nobody believed me.

"Listen. Just so you know, I didn't vote for you and don't approve of the current situation. Anyhow, here's your work for today." She threw a tiny envelope on my desk and turned around to leave.

"Wait, please!"

Unwillingly, she stopped. I stood up and walked over to her.

"We're not here to love each other, but it certainly would be easier to try and get on. To begin with, would you mind telling me what the problem is?"

Her eyes widened, then narrowed into slits.

"You know damn well what the problem is," she declared and, without further ado, went away. I shrugged and took the tiny envelope, swallowing a snort. _People don't seem to work very hard around here._

But it turned out I'd jumped to conclusions. As I tore the envelope apart, a USB key fell out. I plugged it in and gasped. 2 GB of paperwork.

I ended up spending the night at the office. At dawn, I drifted off a bit, then woke up with a start as someone stormed in and slapped a bunch of papers on my desk.

"Urgent memo. Good luck, big boy," the familiar voice spat.

I sat up, rubbed my eyes, yawned, wiped the trail of saliva off my chin, ran over the first sheet. And, for a second, I wished I was dead.

* * *

Had I known that during the first week in office I would be confronted with a continental crisis, I would rather have used my contract as toilet paper.

Long story short - Ekaterina couldn't pay her gas bill, so Ivan cut her off. Not that family bickering was in the heart of our interests, but along with her, a part of Europe was cut off as well. And, of course, it was my job to fix it. So I started by putting them in one room. By late afternoon, I felt like in one of those second rate family talkshows. One that had been lasting for centuries and didn't seem anywhere near a conclusion.

"It's just difficult times for me right now! You know I'll pay as soon as I can!"

The slight stomachache I had been feeling for a while now intensified.

"That's the twenty-fifth time you said that today. About seven thousandth time this decade. That excuse is getting even older than your shoes, dear sister."

Ukraine walked out of the room, silently fuming. Ivan opened his newspaper and treated himself to another cup of complimentary coffee. I went to find her. She was standing on the patio, smoking quickly, almost aggressively.

"You have to help me!" she yelped as she saw me. "Prove me you're not just an asshole!"

Proving I was not an asshole - I felt like I had been doing that my whole life. _Fucking presumption of innocence, guys!_ The skin on my torso suddenly got itchy. I wondered whether it had something to do with my hurting belly. _Anyway_ , I mentally cleared my throat, slicked back my hair, re-checked my flawless suit, _back to the presidential mode._

"He's holding you by your weak spot. You just have to grab his."

"I…" For a while, she got stuck. "I can't do that… He's my brother!"

"You're his sister. Is he treating you like one?"

Actually, he was. Otherwise, he would have already smashed her head with the lead pipe.

She took my arm and we walked back to the office.

"It's not that I do not _want_ to pay! I'm just not as well off as you are!"

 _Oh, Lord. Here we go again,_ I mentally sighed just a minute later.

"Which is only your fault, sister. While you lived with me, you had everything you needed to develop a strong economy."

"Well, you're forgetting one detail. I've been busy. Mostly taking care of _you_."

"How sweet of you." Ivan rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure I would have _died_ without your disgusting borscht."

Katyusha sprang up.

"You son of a bitch! Now what?! You're going to tell me it's _my_ fault that you still wet your bed twice a week?!"

Suddenly, the room went still. That was probably the first time I'd ever seen colour in Ivan's face. He slowly turned to look at me.

"This meeting is being recorded, I presume?"

"It doesn't have to be," I replied. "That is, if you re-establish the gas shipment. And with Ukraine here, you agree on a payment calendar, determining the exact amount and due date of each installment."

"Alright. But I'm raising the price by two cents per cubic meter."

"What? Need money for new bed sheets?" I burst out laughing, but quickly stopped. The flash in his eyes almost made me feel like I'd just started a third world war. Katyusha behind him looked like in the middle of an apoplectic fit.

"Five cents and I'm not nuking either of you," he said after seconds that felt like eternity.

"DEAL!"

* * *

 _(A/N: The gas crisis, conflict in Gaza, the development of political cooperation with former parts of USSR... Czechs didn't have time to loaf around throughout the presidency. But they also left a rather controversial mark. More in the next chapter.)_


	21. Chapter 21

**HYNEK**

 _The first two weeks of my new job were incredibly intense. At least tomorrow, I get a day off,_ I thought one evening, sipping on my beer. _There will be this boring vernissage again. What is it about? Oh, yes. Just like its predecessors, the country currently presiding the EU is expected to present an artwork. This time, it will be…_

 _Oh no._

I remembered talking about it with my boss. He insisted how important it was. I was supposed to ask all the other EU members to participate a bit. I'd prepared an email…

...Which I never sent. My belly constricted painfully. _Fuck this shit._

 _Alright, calm down,_ Hynek. _This could still be alright._ I had whole night in front of me. Lots of junk in my garage. Perhaps not that much inspiration at the moment, but there were other ways.

I ran through all the cupboards in my kitchen, all the while frenetically scratching the itch on my chest.

"I knew it was still there somewhere!" I exclaimed, extracting the dust-covered bottle. The green fairy on the label seemed to be winking at me.

"I've missed you, too, sweetie…" I mumbled as I succumbed to her herb-flavored kiss.

* * *

 _(A/N: Lots of "absinthe purists" say that this drink has no real tradition in Czech Republic and selling it in Prague is a tourist rip-off. Yes, unfortunately, some bars_ _don't hesitate to serve painted vodka and call it_ _absinthe_. _The fact remains that you_ can _get the real deal. Just ask around for the right brands. Also, there are many ways to ingest the drink, once again, check the web and pick the one that seems most appealing and least dangerous to you. Personally I wouldn't recommend shots - not only it burns like hell, but everyone laughs at you while you choke. Also, contrary to the popular belief, you don't hallucinate. You just feel light, creative and social. Even_ I _do. And, trust me, I'm willing to pay good money just to avoid human contact.)_

* * *

When I woke up next morning, the first thing I saw was a half empty bottle of my homemade 70% absinthe and sugar crumbs. No wonder I felt completely drained, both mentally and physically. I moaned and closed my eyes again. This was why I had broken up with the green fairy in the first place.

My phone stuck to my wrist peeled off, then started to ring. And it all dawned on me. The vernissage. I had a piece of art to create and instead, I just got drunk on this toxic shit like a complete moron. The invisible fists clenched my stomach again. _My boss is going to kill me._

Reluctantly, I took the call.

"Just to let you know the trucks have all safely arrived and the guys are currently assembling it. 'Entropa' is the name, you said? Ah, I get it. 'Ent' stands for enthusiastic. This is good, this is _good_. I haven't had a look yet, but I can tell this is going to get us lots of attention. I never doubted you could do it!" And he hung up. I slowly reached out for the absinthe bottle.

"Thanks for saving me."

The fairy winked and blew me a kiss.

* * *

Translation (from Czech):

Ach, můj bože = Oh my God

* * *

Later that day, as I stood in the Justus Lipsius building where they'd just unveiled my artwork, I suddenly remembered an important fact. The green fairy was one jealous bitch who'd just been waiting for her chance to get back at me. The chance came last night.

Why? Well… Take all twenty-seven EU members and their stereotypes. Preferably the unflattering ones. Then, put all of it in one giant sculpture.

" _Ach, můj bože,_ " I gasped. This practically equaled showing my middle finger to the whole Union.

Entropa. The end of Europe.

* * *

I rushed back to my hotel, then opened the laptop so swiftly it almost broke. Before too long, I found the brochure I had prepared while still absinthised.

 _'Because stereotypes need to be exposed to be recognized and recognized to be destroyed. Just like my sculpture, Europe is full of small pieces that, all together, create a truly moving picture. Let us open our hearts and minds. Europe without frontiers.'_

The brochure included names of other artists I cooperated with, but my mailbox contained no exchanges with them. Google gave no results, either. I must have created them as well. From scratch.

I sat back, heart pounding. So this really was about an enthusiasm for Europe. So much so I could cry. I was a motherfucking genius.

* * *

Later that day, I still wanted to cry, but in a wholly different way.

As soon as I exited the hotel to get back to work, my phone found the network again and started beeping with incoming messages. From my politicians. Foreign politicians. And, worst of all, countries directly. Some of them confused, some downright aggressive. Especially Bulgaria. I didn't know you could fit that many swear words into one text.

Once there, my permanent representative to the EU snatched me and took me aside.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he hissed, pointing at the sculpture.

"Just like I said in the brochure, we must expose prejudices to overcome them." Suddenly, I felt a rush of true affection for my "little" piece of art. "I wanted all of us to have a big laugh. And thus, bring us closer together."

"For crying out loud, don't you see?!" he moaned. "This world is just not able to laugh at itself. Much less the old, conservative Europe."

I opened my mouth, then closed it. My stomach and skin were on fire again.

"I've been receiving unpleasant phone calls all day long. But you know what? They better calm down. Other countries participated as well, didn't they?"

My gaze dropped to the floor.

"DIDN'T THEY?!"

I timidly shook my head.

"I've made all of it."

Honestly, I thought he would be impressed, at least a little. Instead, he just made a very menacing gurgling sound, then breathed it through.

"You've lied to us. To everybody."

"I just…" I straightened my back again and looked him in the eye. "I didn't mean to deceive anyone. All in all, I kept the promise - I've made an artwork. I've given a piece of me for everyone to hold. And I'm not apologizing for that," I declared proudly.

Alas, sometimes, people take the piece of you, throw it on the ground and jump on it again and again until it becomes just a bloody stain.

And _you_ are the one who'll apologize.

* * *

 _(A/N: So this is exactly what happened. After years of very conformist decorations nobody gave a flying fuck about, a Czech artist David Černý decided to break the tradition. With his two assistants, they made a giant sculpture called Entropa, one big parody of EU._

 _Some countries got away lightly - for instance, Belgium is depicted as a half empty box of chocolates. Then, there is Luxembourg - a gold nugget saying "For Sale". And, my personal favorite, UK, which is actually just an empty space on the mosaic. Because, as Brexit later proved, they never really wanted to be there in the first place._

 _Alas, instead of laughing, member states started to put in complaints and brokenhearted Mr._ _Černý_ _apologized more than necessary._

 _Honestly, google it, it's worth it.)_


	22. Chapter 22

**HYNEK**

 **Two chapters today!**

* * *

 _(A/N: The story of Lisbon Treaty is long and complex. I_ really _tried to keep it as concise as possible not to bore you to death.)_

* * *

The whole Entropa business healed me of my illusions and left me lethargic. In my calendar, I drew a big heart around the 1st of July, the end of my service. One early afternoon, just as I was counting the remaining days to freedom, my boss called.

"Did you read the treaty I've sent over two weeks ago? It's important. They'll be asking you about it soon enough."

Having no idea what he was talking about, I promised to call him back, then started to frenetically run through my emails. It took me almost an hour to find it. It was in the 'Funny' folder. My boss, solemn as he was, sometimes got drunk and then forwarded me hilarious messages. Usually with pictures of awkward cats or videos of somebody failing at their bike stunt. This time, it was a legal document. At the moment I received it, I was a tad inebriated myself and had quite a laugh.

Unfortunately, it was no joke and, as I printed it out and started to read it, I felt more like weeping.

The text was called Lisbon Treaty, a new EU constitution to be validated by all the members. A useful thing, one would say. Except… Except there were good reasons why, at first, I doubted the genuinity of the document. It contained parts no sane medium-sized or small country would ever agree to. Especially these two:

1\. As per the current rules, voting inside EU mostly requested everyone to be in favor. If so much as one member disagreed, the decision had to be postponed and re-negotiated. This gave even the tiniest country a considerable power. However, according to the Treaty, the unanimous vote was to be marginalised to the benefit of what they called qualified majority.

2\. The qualified majority already existed - for some topics, the unison wasn't necessary. It meant that a decision could be taken if a certain number of countries representing a certain percentage of citizens and a certain number of weighted votes agreed with it. The weighted votes were extremely important. In the beginning, every country was given a certain number of them. Yes, it decreased along with the number of citizens, but usually got adjusted to the benefit of small and medium-sized states. And now, the criterion of weighted votes was to be cancelled.

I opened an Excel sheet and made a list of all the members with their population and weighted votes, then did some math. Blood quickly drained from my face. Basically everyone was losing their voting power. Except for the three biggest countries, who saw their influence rising by 60%, even doubling.

* * *

"There is no way I'm signing this." I slapped the document on Laura's desk minutes later. She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair.

"Is this just your regular whining for attention or do you actually have a point to make?"

I bit my tongue and showed her my sheet. She didn't bat an eye.

"You know your elementary math. That's good."

 _She looks like a little angel. Where is all that contempt coming from?_ I thought as I stared at her. But it was not a good moment to linger on that. Instead, I got back to the topic.

"The smallest countries will see their impact rise slightly while still remaining insignificant. On the other hand, Germany's importance, high as it already is, will get multiplied by two."

"Oh, you and Germany again," she scoffed. "In case you forgot, you're not the only one who suffered during the wars. So kindly get over yourself."

"This is not about WW2." I had to fight with myself not to raise my voice. "This is about the present. About us, middle-sized countries, which includes you. We're the ones losing here."

She drew in a big breath.

"Listen. Lawyers from all around the Union worked on this. Whatever they design, someone will always be dissatisfied. But this needs to be done, for the sake of order."

 _For the sake of order._ I'd heard that phrase so many times before. Usually followed by the sound of gunfire.

"Anyhow, if you really want to be the one and only that ruins it all, just go ahead. Get your fifteen minutes of fame." Her phone started to ring and she picked it up, thus telling me to leave. I obliged. There wasn't much left for me to do anyway. I'd stopped hitting women a long time ago.

* * *

(Siobhan = Ireland)

* * *

Back in my office, I did some research. It turned out I was not the only one - Feliks and Siobhan refused to sign it, too. I called them up, but it turned out they had already unofficially changed their minds and refused to talk about it a minute more. Then, I had an idea. I phoned my boss, suggested we'd check with the Constitutional Court whether the Treaty was compatible with my constitution. Which it most certainly was not. Talk about a relief!

"I'm sorry, my boy. It won't work. They are already won over, you see? We can always try, though. Theoretically, we…" Suddenly, his office got flooded with noise. Lots of muttering I did not understand. "I'm going to need to go now. Let us talk later."

And then, he hung up.

* * *

"Of course we can check again. However, please note that a similar request has already been made. The verdict was that the Lisbon Treaty is in no way contradicting the Constitution of Czech Republic. The two documents can thus co-exist without any serious risk of conflict."

"Do check again, please," I managed feebly. The secretary agreed, but I already knew it was no good. I hid my face. My stomach was killing me again.

Those judges… they did not know it, but they had already handed in their resignation. I wouldn't need them anymore. Or the constitution.

I hung up and dialed my boss again. Nobody replied. Soon, I wouldn't need a boss, either.

Eva was right all those years ago.

" _..._ _a bunch of countries united around a strong leader, cooperating economically, adopting the same currency... Doesn't that sound familiar?"_

From now on, everything would be handled directly from Brussels. We'd share everything and become one happy family. Or else.

 _The European Empire. The Fourth Reich. The Union of Soviet European Republics._

But I'd sooner be damned than let that happen.

* * *

Luckily, there was a big meeting going on within half an hour. I prepared a presentation with numbers and diagrams and a powerful, yet touching speech. I straightened my back, adjusted my hair, checked my suit. I'd just talk to them like the president I was.

I walked to the conference hall, trying to ignore the worse-than-ever itch or think about the knives in my belly. _Presidential mode, Hynek, presidential mode._ As I entered, my eyes fell on the starry flag. Somehow, I managed a smile. And then, in a flash, the stars multiplied and the floor came too close for comfort.


	23. Chapter 23

**HYNEK**

I woke up in the sick room. One of my euro MP's had just come in with a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

"Brought you clean clothes," he mumbled. He wouldn't meet my eye. On the other side of the room, the nurse was packing away my original outfit. It was covered in vomit.

"What happened?" I breathed feebly. He just shook his head and retreated. I repeated my question, but he was already gone. I saw the file on my bedside and stiffened as I remembered about my important task. I couldn't go there so weak and poorly dressed, but it didn't matter. I'd phone the conference room and they'd put me on the loudspeaker.

After a few rings, the call got transferred to Laura's mobile. I glanced at the clock. Of course. The meeting was now long over. She replied before I could hung up.

"What do you need?" The usual animosity in her voice wrestled with pity. Clearly a bad sign.

"I need to talk to everyone!"

She took a deep breath.

"Pardon my straight-forwardness, but I doubt anyone would listen to you right now. For future reference, you don't throw down your government while presiding the Union."

"Gov… what?!" I gasped. She'd hung up in the meantime. I dialed my boss. He answered at the first ring.

"How are you, my boy?" His almost affectionate tone got me worried even further. Physically, I wasn't feeling sick anymore; even the itching had receded. The shock was still there, thought.

"How… how did it…?" was all I managed.

Silence.

"These things happen."

"But… why?"

"Because…" He seemed to be looking for words. "Many reasons. You see…"

He plunged into quite a monologue about all the scandals and conflicts that had been going on in my lands for a while now. Most of them I was vaguely aware of, but I never imagined they could escalate this high. To people completely losing trust in their government.

And the worst thing was - I could have prevented it. Back in Prague. But I practically lived here in Brussels, way too busy being the main EU clown.

"I'm coming home," I declared.

"Don't. Under no circumstances should you travel now. You need to rest. Once you're better, we will…"

By the time he realized he was talking to himself, I had already exited the building.

* * *

I quickly bought a flight ticket before my boss could have my credit card blocked. He could get incredibly stubborn about my well being. Just as expected, when I tried to pay for the airport shuttle, it didn't work anymore. I paid with another, secret Visa, climbed into the train and collapsed in the first empty compartment, weak and feeling tight in the chest. As my eyelids slowly travelled down, a familiar face peeked in.

"Hyňo! There you are!" my favorite Slovak squealed. _How did she find me?_ I marveled. _Oh, of course._ The secret credit card was linked to our old joint bank account. Every time one of us made a transaction, we both got a text with details.

She slumped down next to me. And frowned. "You look... blue," she gasped.

 _Oh nonsense!_ I thought _. Is there any good reason for me to feel sad? Everything's cool. Wonderful._ Perfect _._

I smiled (or tried) and shook my head.

"Brother, I'm serious! Your lips are purple. Breathe!" Eva grabbed my shoulders and shook me. She turned out to be right. Without realizing, I had been holding my breath. The movement made me gasp for air, then jerk with a monumental hiccup. A whole chain of hiccups.

"Hang on, I'll go get a doctor."

I grabbed her skirt, stilling her.

"No need. I'm _\- hic -_ fine. Perfect _\- hic -_. P. E. R _\- hiiic -_ F -"

 _Oh God! What is it this time?! Am I being taken over by some extremist group?_

"You're holding back sobs," she interrupted, serious. "Stop it. Let it out."

I wanted to laugh, roll my eyes, remind her it was me, Hynek, and had she ever seen me crying? But before I could open my mouth, she locked the door, pulled the curtains and hugged me. Real tight.

I just sat there, letting her completely flood my senses. Her soapy smell. Her warmth. And that almost motherly strokes on my hair, telling me I was safe now. A sob escaped my mouth. I let the rest of them out, too.

And God, were they manifold.

"I'm tired, Eva," I managed after a while. "I'm so tired of being strong!"

"Then just be yourself."

 _Be myself? Do we even have the right to do that?!_

"It's been a while since you last hung out with us," she went on. "Maybe that's the problem."

"Us?"

"Me. Feliks. Erzi. Gilbert. Our cousins from the south. Et cetera."

I blinked.

"But I see you guys all the time."

"Outside work, I mean. For fun. For family time. I understand you like to ride solo, maybe except in your bedroom. Still…"

 _Oh, darling. If they were to make a movie based on my recent sex life, 'Riding Solo' would be the perfect title._

"Still, we miss you, you know."

* * *

I changed my flight from Prague to Vienna, Eva's gateway to the world. At the airport, we ran into Roderich and Erzsébet. The latter instantly called up Feliks. Gilbert, who happened to be on the same platform as Feliks, overheard the conversation. Before I could realize, the six of us were entering one of Bratislava's best pubs.

I was pretty surprised at how nice to me everyone was; Gilbert even volunteered to pay for the first round. It felt uncomfortable.

"Guys," I started as soon as we took place. "I appreciate it, but I'm good. You don't have to act as if you liked me."

"Why, of course we like you." Erzi broke the confused silence. Feliks laughed and slapped my shoulder.

"Thanks," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"I mean, it's true that, even though you're from East, you act like a westerner, try to mingle with the westerners. Which makes you a hypocrite. And -"

"Thanks Erzi, you can stop now," Eva interjected through her teeth.

"And an assh-"

"An astonishingly good politician!" Roderich outcried his lover, giving her an eloquent look. Eva and Feliks nodded vigorously. _Fuck, they really are all pitying me,_ I thought. In the meantime, Gilbert brought the beer.

"And an _Arschloch_." He snickered. I laughed and relaxed at last.

* * *

After about two hours, we decided to go someplace else. To general astonishment, our German friend claimed the bill once again.

"It's your lucky day, losers, the awesome me just got paid," Gil said and started to empty his bag in a search of a wallet. Out came keys, gums, some flyers and then... a weird, plastic thingy shaped as… Well, the banana version of Hulk. I blinked.

"What the hell's that?"

"A banana case, _Dummkopf_ ," he explained matter-of-factly.

Silence. Except for a few more or less successfully suppressed snorts. The albino suspended his search.

"So how do you guys carry bananas?!" he asked, exasperated.

"Personally, I just throw it in my handbag." Erzi shrugged.

"What if it explodes?" he countered. Some of us exchanged looks and grins. That was the last drop for Eva and Feliks. They literally doubled up in a laugh fit. Then, in perfect synchrony, they straightened their backs and faces again. She unzipped her bag and looked inside, eyes like saucers.

"Oh _no_!" she gasped in a hilariously fake distress. "My banana exploded again! Damn you, system!" She shook her little fist towards the ceiling. "How _dare_ you sell explosive bananas to honest, law-abiding citizens?!"

A mere second later, Feliks grabbed the banana case and jumped towards her. I smirked, already knowing what would come.

"Tired of this happening to you?" he started in a buttery, commercial voice. That was his big talent. He could make anything out of anything, then sell it at an unbeatable price and still make profits. "Let me tell you - your life's changing today. I present you Banana Case 3000! Thanks to it totally futuristic design and firm yet flexible finish, Banana Case 3000 will provide satisfaction you've never dared to dream of!"

"You sound like you're selling a love toy," I quipped.

"I'm selling a banana case, Henryk. What you do with it once purchased is none of my business."

We all puffed.

"So, only today," the Pole went on, "and for only two million zloty, you can..."

"Two millions?!" Austria half gasped, half mocked.

"That's just something around four euros," Erzsébet whispered to him. I burst out laughing.

"BUY TODAY! Polska Ltd. declines all responsibility for any humiliation you might cause yourself," Feliks concluded in a quick murmur. By then, I was literally rolling over the floor laughing, my clothes and hair all rumpled and dirty. _Fuck the presidential mode!_


	24. Chapter 24

**HYNEK**

We all spent the night at Eva's place. For some reason, I chose the kitchen table. I woke up to the smell of a Viennese bakery.

" _Kornspitz_?"

"I wouldn't mind."

I sat up to look for some coffee, but he handed me a cup along with the fresh bread.

"You of all people," I mumbled. "I thought you hated me the most."

"Just say thank you." Austria wiped his flour-coated hands, then sat down next to me. "You've always been doing your utmost to annoy the hell out of me, Tschechien. If that is not how countries get attached, then I give up."

I laughed.

"Listen," he went on, serious. "Honestly, it's not that bad. Think of all the mistakes I've done as an Empire. And look at me now. Am I not doing just fine?!"

He was right. It wasn't that bad. Countries doing well externally _and_ internally are rare. I had had my mind elsewhere and something went wrong inside me. So I rejected it. That simply meant I was healthy. Perfectly healthy. _And fuck anyone who disagrees._ At that thought, the picture of Laura popped up in my mind.

"Say, as a member of the I-act-like-there-is-a-broom-stuck-up-my-ass community, could you give me some advice?"

"You're getting classier every day," he sighed. "Do go ahead."

"I really don't know what to do with Dewitte. She seems okay with everybody except me. I even asked her what the problem was. She said I knew damn well what the problem was. Since then, she got even bitchier."

He tilted his head sideways, like he often would.

"Are you serious you don't know?"

I shook my head no.

"Well, just like my old friend Siegmund would have said, it's all about sex." I stared at my companion, enjoying his coffee and my surprise. I figured he was no monk, but never before had I heard him pronounce that word with so much detachment.

"She doesn't fancy me," I replied once I could. "Quite the contrary - I think she would enjoy seeing my head on a spike."

"Don't you get it?! It's all about Amsterdam."

"Amsterdam? When?"

"1992, of course."

It took me a while to see what he meant.

"No way. I was so stoned I kept no memory of that weekend. I couldn't have..."

I saw the corners of his mouth twitching.

"You know something, don't you?!" I pointed at his chest. He instantly retreated, brushing off the invisible dirt I left there, then crossed his arms. That didn't erase his smirk, though.

"All I know is that the two of you spent the night locked up in one of the rooms, with you occasionally yelling 'banana split'."

I stared at him again before bursting into laughter. A good, healthy laughter right from the stomach. I knew something had happened between us at one point or another. I _knew_ it!

"We all heard you, of course. Which brings us to why she's angry. She feels like everybody's thinking less of her now. You do realize she's not the kind to get around, especially not with the likes of you."

"Gee, thanks." A second after, something crossed my mind. "Wait. what have _you_ been doing there? You know Hungary will cut your family jewels off if she finds out you cheated on her."

"Sisi can sleep peacefully - I just popped in to collect the unfinished food."

Lucky Erzi. I didn't have the slightest doubt it was true.

* * *

 _(A/N: halušky = typical Slovak meal. Egg- and flour-based pasta with liquid sheep cheese and fried bacon.)_

* * *

Visitors shoveled in the pastries and everybody went their way. Eva just grabbed a cup of coffee, suggested I get some proper rest in her bed and disappeared, too. I followed her advice. Between the lavender-smelling sheets I slept like a baby. So much so I only woke up as she got back from work. I'd forgotten how nice it was to open my eyes and see her smile.

"Feeling better?"

I nodded.

"You don't have to go just yet. Trains to Prague run until late. I'll go draw you a nice bath. Leave your clothes outside the bathroom, I'll wash them."

Seeing my naked self in the bathroom mirror, I had to sit down. So much of my muscle was gone, with no fat to replace it. The skin, especially on my torso, was red and, due to my frenetic scratching, practically gone. And all I'd done was to buy a belt and some dark-colored shirts...

I grabbed a pot of medicinal herbs and emptied it into the tub. The fragrant water provided some relief, but I knew these things needed to be fixed from the inside.

"The laundry is dry!" I heard her shout from another room when I opened the door. "As for dinner, I was planning to make _halušky_ , but it seems they need me at a ministry right now, so I guess pasta carbonara would do. I shouldn't be long. Do you mind cooking in the meantime? Everything's on the table." At the last words, she appeared in front of me, car keys in her hand.

"I'm afraid I need to get going, pumpkin."

I could have afforded to stay two hours more, but I thought the sooner I got to Prague, the better. Plus, truth be told, I really wanted to spare myself the humiliation of telling her I couldn't cook pasta.

"What? Already?!" she gasped. "I… I thought we could... you see, have a good meal and…"

By then, I was fully dressed. I kissed her on the cheek.

"We'll definitely do that next time, okay? There are plenty of nice restaurants all around your capital. We'll go anywhere you like - it will be my treat!"

"I see…" she muttered and turned slightly away. I took it as a sign to kiss her other cheek and left.

Had I known how much suffering I could have spared her back then, I would have stayed and cooked all the pasta in the city.

* * *

 _(Petar = Bulgaria)_

* * *

I knew Eva and Matt started to date again, but I would rarely see them together. Separately, they looked tired and sad. _Perhaps, thanks to me, they rediscovered their old flame and couldn't bear to be without each other anymore,_ I reckoned smugly. I just hoped they would get married as soon as possible. That would make things much simpler.

One day, we were supposed to share a car for Budapest with Feliks, but he had had a change of plans. Somehow, we started to talk about Entropa.

"...Nothing personal against anyone, just exposing stereotypes to overcome them, you see?"

Eva blinked, eyes still on the road.

"So you didn't mean to say I'm fat?"

"Of course not, sweetie!" I almost burst out laughing. How could have such a thing even crossed her mind?! "You've got exactly what you need, nothing more, nothing less."

She smiled a tad.

"I get it now. Political satire. All in all, it _is_ pretty hilarious. I say - don't change anything. It's art."

I was relieved she saw things that way. Petar had already made me cover his part and it didn't feel good.

While my mind wandered, a Mercedes with a customized plate almost pushed us out of the highway. Luckily, in the meantime, Eva had developed reflexes worthy of a F1 driver. No casualties. As soon as she could, she stopped to breathe it through.

"Didn't you want to give the jackass a piece of your mind?" I asked as I wiped her sweaty forehead.

"No. Maťo doesn't like me doing that. The other day I shouted at a woman whose car knocked me off my bike and he made me apologize."

"Did _she_ apologize?"

"No."

My brain bugged.

"So he made _you_ apologize while _she_ had put you in danger?"

Eva said nothing, just shrugged. It was a shrug of helplessness rather than indifference. But I needed a whole month to realize that.

* * *

 _(A/N: As previously mentioned, lots of countries complained about Entropa (including Slovakia, shown as a generous Hungarian sausage). Most of them calmed down after a public apology. Except Bulgaria - their part had to be censored with a black cloth. Then again, they were depicted as a bunch of Turkish squat toilets, so I kinda get their point.)_


	25. Chapter 25

**TORIS**

I did what I could. Nothing changed.

Eva started to wither. Everything about her was screaming that she didn't love him any longer. And yet, she went on clutching onto his hand the way only a drowning person would.

I kept trying to reach her in every way possible. Alas, once she decided to avoid someone, she could get extremely creative. One afternoon, all my lucky stars aligned and we found ourselves standing face to face, just the two of us. She turned around in panic and trailed off.

Why was she doing it?! Why?!

Her skin turned waxen, those lovely eyes red-rimmed and empty. And she used so much of the flashy lipstick that she ended up running out of it. I decided to buy her a new one, but, despite a whole hour of browsing the web, I couldn't find the right shade. Until, at last, I realized that it was _not_ about makeup. I slammed the laptop shut and darted out of my Parisian office.

* * *

As I stormed into his embassy, Canada was sitting in the entrance hall, reading a paper. He carefully folded it, stood up and reached out to shake my hand. I refused. I just wasn't in a state to give a damn about manners.

"My taxi's going to be here within minutes. Can we please make this quick?" he said, cool and composed. I couldn't believe it was the same man I had seen come undone a mere month earlier.

"You are telling her and you are telling her _NOW_!"

It came out much louder than intended. The receptionist shot him a worried look, but he just shook his head.

"Look, _Toris_."

The sound of my name left me dumbfounded. He moved closer.

"That is what they call you, isn't it?"

I nodded, half consciously crossing my arms.

"This is no longer a topic. I am leaving for London in a minute. To propose to her. I decided to make it political as well as personal."

"She won't say yes!" I hit back. He stayed calm.

"That would be very surprising. She was the one who requested I propose."

Even though, deep down, I was dying to whack him, I couldn't. Everything in his demeanor made me think of a person cursed with a fatal illness. That serene, yet eerie stage when they finally come to terms with their own doom.

"Therefore, as her soon-to-be husband, I am asking you to leave the two of us alone," he continued. "I am asking you nicely. If you persist, I will be forced to reconsider my attitude. I would rather not, so please do your utmost to avoid that circumstance. Goodbye now."

For two or three seconds, I couldn't speak.

"Look at you!" I then yelped at the leaving Canadian. "How ridiculous you are! Do you really want to spend the rest of your time living an illusion?!"

Before exiting the building, he turned around to look at me once more, his eyebrows meeting halfway.

"Pardon me, but you are not exactly well-placed to judge."

* * *

Translation:

 _Hé, qu'est ce qui se passe ici?_ (in French) = Hey, what's going on here?

* * *

I called him, his brother, her, her brother, possibly anyone I could think of. No one answered. Why do you guys carry phones if you don't reply when it really matters?!

 _Alright. Here we go again._ I jumped into the closest bus and went online to buy a flight ticket to London. The website informed me there was a strike going on at all Paris airports. _Well,_ _merde_.

Then, the bus stopped at a train station. _That's it! A Eurostar train!_

It turned out I wasn't the only one with that idea. The queue for tickets was snaking halfway through the hall. As if that wasn't enough, the second next train was cancelled. By the time I got to the desk, I had developed a pretty sharp stomach ache. I glanced at my watch. _I might still make it if everything goes smoothly._

I handed the clerk my ID card. Painfully slowly, he took it, then went on glancing from me to my picture again and again.

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

"It's you!" the boy behind the glass gasped before bursting out laughing. "It's him!" he shouted to his colleagues. They all came over to have a look.

"I'm sorry, _is_ there a problem?!" I repeated, desperate and clueless.

"You are the guy from the video!" the Frenchie grabbed his keyboard, hit a few keys and showed me the screen. Blood drained from my face and limbs. It was a security tape from the NATO headquarters. Showing me eating fries from the ground. With over two million hits.

"Can I have your autograph?" one of the clerks laughed, pulling out her bra strap.

" _Hé, qu'est ce qui se passe ici?"_

I don't think I had ever been that happy to see Francis.

"Everybody back to work. And _you_ , come with me."

We ran to the platform as quickly as possible. I jumped inside seconds prior to departure.

" _Merci!_ " I cried.

" _Mais de rien._ " He adjusted his flawless railway uniform. "I'm really sorry about all those years ago. I had no idea it was her you felt so strongly about. I do have a sixth sense for these things, but this time, it let me down," he sighed. "Otherwise, I would have told you."

"Don't worry about that." I smiled.

"As for now, I really think it's time for you to -"

At that point, the whistle blew, the door slid shut and the train pulled out.

* * *

I wondered what it was Francis tried to say.

As soon as I found my seat, I started to call Eva again and again. No reply. I began a text. And quickly realized I had no idea what to say.

' _Please don't do this. TL,'_ I finally managed. Oh, Eva. Why? Just why?! Why on Earth are you so stubborn? I could have sold my soul for a cigarette, but I wouldn't have been able to smoke it anyways. So I just laid back and closed my eyes.

 _Eva Kučerová has two lipsticks._

No. No longer. She used up the one that made her feel brave.

 _She likes to chew on lemon balm leaves._

She doesn't like to chew on her lip, but when she's troubled, she can't really help it. Like now.

 _She's not afraid of spiders._

But she is terrified of being left behind.

 _She..._

 _Wait! That's it! THAT'S_ _IT_! She loved solitude, but hated loneliness. So she would do anything not to be alone. Poor thing. She was scared of drowning, rejected, unwanted, unloved. She needed a lifeline.

All of a sudden, my phone bleeped with an incoming message. My eyes widened as I saw her number.

' _It's the right thing to do,'_ the text said.

 _No, it isn't._

' _You don't have to be afraid,'_ I quickly typed and hit the 'Send' button. Nothing happened. I hit it a couple more times. Still nothing. We entered the tunnel. I lost the network. And the train came to a halt.


	26. Chapter 26

**HYNEK**

"Look who came back for more."

I grinned when Laura Dewitte appeared on my doorstep one day. Not that I minded. Every since that chat with Austria, I just couldn't see banana splits the same way.

"What happens in Amsterdam stays in Amsterdam," she reminded me stoically. "I need to talk to you."

I let her in and got her a beer. She wasn't passive-agressive like at work, just tired and bitter. I hoped the drink would sweeten her somewhat. I'd always suspected that was what the yellow of her flag actually stood for. And then, maybe… but first things first.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Your sister. And Matthew."

I thought it was strange for her to call him that, but whatever.

"They've had a row."

"So I've heard."

Silence.

"Is that all?" I wondered.

"I meant THE row."

"THE row?"

"The one after which you cannot go back."

"All couples argue now and then." I shrugged.

"He actually told her she drank too much." She gave me a serious look.

"That's common knowledge. Living with Ivan has left all of us with a drinking problem."

Laura averted her eyes, then started to furiously peel the label off her beer.

"Believe it or not, he also accused her of wanting too much sex," she said to the bottle. I laughed out loud as a wave of pride rushed through my insides.

"That's my girl! _Carpe_ fucking _diem!_ "

"You're really not getting this." The Belgian shook her head. "He... he actually said she should lose some weight," she half moaned.

 _DID HE?!_

I almost fainted as my blood pressure suddenly shot up. As if a storm was breaking out inside me. Eva was finally doing well enough to develop a full, strong body and he dared say such a thing?! In a flash, it all dawned on me. Why she was so upset about Entropa. Why her whole wardrobe had gone dark. Why I couldn't recollect the last time I saw her eat.

And…

And how she always put makeup on, even at home - so I wouldn't see her red eyes, her chewed lip, her tired, almost translucent skin. She stopped blooming a while ago. Now, she was just withering.

Because of _him_.

 _I don't care about UN. I don't care about NATO. I'm going to strangle him, I'm going to strangle that ungrateful brat and -_

"...and she told him he was taking hockey too seriously," she concluded. In a moment, my boiling blood dropped to zero.

 _Fuck. Fuck. FUCK._

"Their relationship _is_ over," I gasped.

"Completely." At last, she allowed concern to spread freely across her face. "And yet, he's proposing tonight."

"WHAT?!"

* * *

So many things started to make sense, leaving some pretty scary pictures in my mind. I called him at least fifteen times, using both mine and Laura's number. Nothing. I opened the phone and put in my American SIM card. Just as expected, he replied at the first ring.

"Oh. It's _you_ ," he breathed.

"Please don't do this, Matthew. You'll just grow miserable. Both of you."

"It's the way it should be. She's the right person for me." If beaten dogs could talk, I knew what they would sound like. But I was too pissed to pity him.

"How is she the right person for you?!" I exclaimed. "You said yourself that she drinks too much and -"

Something, not quite sure what, made me pause.

"You told me that was the price to pay for her company," he gasped, then went silent. And I could almost hear the shit hitting the fan. "You were messing with me. You've been doing this since the very beginning, eh?!"

"I… I just -"

"Goodbye. And please don't contact me anymore."

"Wait!" I yelped. To my surprise, he actually obeyed. Probably because his conscience wasn't that clean, either. "I suck, I know. But please, just leave Eva out of this!"

"What happens between the two of us is none of your concern." I glanced desperately at the woman next to me. She pointed at herself. By then, I'd developed a pretty good idea what role she was playing in the story.

"But you don't even love her anymore!"

 _Prove me wrong, I beg you, prove me wrong…_

All that I got was another moment of silence.

"You know what?" he finally spoke. "At least one of your pieces of advice was useful. You were right that, when you have relations with someone, you're making a promise. I have to keep that promise now."

"Me? When did I ever say that?!"

Seriously. If I were to marry every woman I slept with, I wouldn't have a free Saturday before the end of the decade. Even considering some of my fiancées would die in the meantime. But before I could tell him that, he hung up and turned off his phone. I buried my face in my palms.

"I have an idea." Laura rummaged in her handbag until she retrieved a piece of paper with fancy handwriting. "There's a banquet in the Buckingham Palace tonight. I RSVPed no, but that shouldn't be a problem."

* * *

A few hours later, we were walking up to that giant English jewel.

"Miss Belgium!" the guard exclaimed. "What a pleasure you reconsidered!"

I followed her inside, but the guy stopped me.

"May I have your name, sir?"

"Mr. Czechia."

"I'm afraid you are not on the list, sir."

"He's with me," Laura said. The guard started to look suspiciously from her to me again and again. I had to act quickly. Create a distraction and then, we'd dart inside.

"Alright. I didn't mean to embarrass Miss Belgium here, but, as a matter of fact…" I pulled the crisp white shirt out of my trousers to reveal the recently re-acquired six-pack, then started to stroke it. "I'm a professional stripper."

The man's eyes widened.

"And a slut," Laura added sweetly. Before I could ask her what the hell, a familiar voice rose over the crowd.

"That's quite alright, Billy. Let them in."

* * *

 _(A/N: Tatra Tea is a tea-based herbal liquor, a typically Slovak drink)_

* * *

"You could at least try to be on time for this kind of event," Arthur grumbled as he guided us through the seemingly endless corridors.

"Ballroom's that way," Belgium hissed and we started to run.

"Where do you think you're going, wankers?!"

My lungs were burning as I finally reached the heavy wooden door. I threw myself on the knob, pushed and pulled with all my force. Nothing worked.

"It's occupied." The Briton joined us at a leisure pace.

"We need to talk to them!" I yelped.

"I am afraid you'll need to wait until they come out."

"Please," Laura cooed, looking up through her lashes. "Surely you have a spare key?"

The blond wasn't moved by her seductive tone.

"Seriously, Arthur. Cut the crap. This is very important. Just hand us the key!"

No good, either.

"They are in the middle of making an important decision. Do _not_ disturb them."

I could see that this wasn't only about his affection for the couple. But I didn't give it much more thought. Our time was running out.

"You know what? I don't care," I declared coldly. "I'm getting her out of here, even if it means burning this place to ashes."

To support my words, I reached into my briefcase and took out the flask of Tatra Tea I carried everywhere along with a lighter. I started to open the flask and Artie froze. Too late did I realize he wasn't looking at me rather than behind me.

"You are most certainly _not_ putting my house on fire."


	27. Chapter 27

**HYNEK**

* * *

 _(A/N: Contains speculations about a certain monarch's early years. Please don't hate me, I'm actually a big fan :3 )_

* * *

Such an ordinary elderly lady. Physically, there was nothing impressive about her, nothing grandioze. Wearing plain clothes, she wouldn't stand out in any way. Just like with most of our bosses, it was something intangible. A kind of gravity, an atmosphere of power they created around them. Some say you have to be born like that. But I sided with her on this one. _It's all to do with the training: you can do a lot if you're properly trained._

I instantly lowered my gaze, speechless.

"Your Majesty." Laura made a slight courtesy.

"Miss Belgium. You look lovelier every time I see you."

"That is very kind of you, Ma'am." From the corner of my eye, I noticed she was blushing. Arthur himself did not move, probably wondering what to do.

"Now, you, young man." She turned to me. I knew there was a thing called etiquette. That I should be doing something, saying something. But at that moment, I was just a piece of stone.

"You look familiar. Did I used to own you?"

I managed to shake my head. _My boss is going to kill me for embarrassing him this much, especially considering all those coaching sessions he has paid me._ Then, all of a sudden, I heard her sniff. She took the flask from my hand, unscrewed the cap all the way and inhaled deeply.

"You had sheets with linden leaves pattern," she whispered. She sounded like she was smiling. I straightened my back again. My eyes met hers. And it all came back to me.

 _First half of the twentieth century._

 _On my way to a business trip._

 _The weather was bad, really bad._

 _I decided to wait the night out in our secret little chalet in Tatras._

 _It was snowing heavily._

 _Someone knocked on the door._

 _A young lady was seeking shelter._

 _She removed her cloak._

 _I smiled._

 _She smiled back._

 _Snowstorm outside._

 _Firestorm inside._

"Your Majesty!" Laura exclaimed in shock.

"Henry," Artie growled through his gritting teeth.

"Lizzie?" I blinked.

* * *

"You made me feel young again, so I am willing to forget about your earlier threats," she declared, back to her I-am-an-unreachable-monarch mode. "In any event, I am confiscating this." She shook the flask, then took a swig. Nevermind the monarch mode.

"Ma'am. I'm afraid guests are waiting for us," Arthur ventured.

"Let them wait," she scoffed. "They are an awful lot, don't you think? Fifty percent are thinking about food, forty-five about doing the deed and the remaining five about how to take my throne. I like this party so much better." She looked the two of us over. "Now be so kind as to bring us four glasses. And a couple of nice bottles."

The blond complied. Despite the luxurious furniture everywhere, she sat down on the ground. I rushed to spread my jacket on the carpet, but she quickly dismissed me. Instead, she gestured for us to sit down by each of her sides. I exchanged glances with Belgium. She was the one used to royal company. She just shrugged, as clueless as I was.

"Does one of you happen to carry a phone? I should like to call my doppelganger to fill in for me tonight. So we will not be bothered."

"Can you do that, Ma'am?" I gasped.

"Of course." She grinned. "Being the head of Commonwealth _does_ bring some perks."

* * *

The bottles emptied at a speed worthy of a Russian marriage. And Lizz-, I mean, _Her_ _Majesty_ told us all about how her doppelganger spent months in the palace while she herself travelled across Europe, young, anonymous and free as a bird.

"So, I got a little bit lost on my way from Vienna to Warsaw. It was a very cruel winter and I could feel the blizzard coming. Luckily, the young man here put me up. And after that… Tell me, is everyone as hungry as I am?"

"I have some waffles in my handbag, if you like," Laura offered. "With big brother, we did lots of baking this morning."

"You carry waffles in your bag? Even to royal dinners?" Artie raised an eyebrow in the laziest fashion possible. Probably overwhelmed by the peculiar nature of that evening, he looked like he'd stopped looking for any sense a good while ago.

"Always," she declared. "I'm horrified at the idea of eating foreign waffles." She opened the tupperware and stared inside for a while. "Ooops. Big brother's going to be very disappointed. It looks like I took his special brownies instead."

"Hand it over," the silver-haired beauty between us ordered. "That reminds me. Have I already told you about my days in Amsterdam?"

And thus, for a while, I forgot all about Eva. Given the circumstances, I'm pretty sure she would understand.

* * *

Around three in the morning. A dozen empty bottles lying around, one of them staining the outrageously expensive carpet. And not a crumb left in the tupperware.

Laura was snoozing in a nearby corner. Arthur had drifted to slumber on his boss's shoulder. I watched them through my eyelashes. She loosened his bow tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

"I'm not leaving you to that pretentious git," I heard Elisabeth murmur as she stroked his hair, the way mothers do with their children. "I'm not leaving you to _anyone_. You and I have been through so much together. Nobody else knows you, nobody understands you the way I do. Nobody will truly give you what you need. Nobody is good enough for you. _Nobody_."

I smiled to myself and dozed off as well.

* * *

When I woke up, I felt as spirited as a dead rat. I opened my eyes anyway.

The Queen and the mess were gone. Laura was still happily asleep. We were both wrapped in blankets with pillows underneath our heads, shoes and my bow tie off.

"Morning, old chap."

I blinked at Arthur who had just brought us coffee. Slowly (and painfully), I sat up and treated myself to a gulp. It did wonders to me. I buttoned up my shirt, then reached out for the shoes.

"I owe you an apology for yesterday," he suddenly started. "I mostly wanted her in the family because of the gold. But the two of you were right - they won't be happy together. Canada has been one big bundle of nerves recently and now I see why. It would be better if they broke up. Not just for themselves, but literally for the rest of the world. Too much strain has driven the biggest country out of his mind. We do not want that happening to the second biggest as well. And the girl. She might look like she can't count to ten, yet…"

He kept on talking, but my hungover brain got stuck at the first sentence.

"Gold? What gold?" I interrupted. He went quiet.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What gold are you talking about? There's not much left in her lands."

The two caterpillars on his forehead met in a passionate kiss.

"But… Matthew told me she had a golden heart," he muttered abstractedly. The sound of a familiar name woke Laura up.

"I mean, there _is_ some. Still and all, the extraction would cost more than the gold itself. You see?"

Frowning Arthur just stared at me, now gaping as well.

"He probably just meant that she's a nice person." I shrugged. He groaned, leaned against the wall and started to rub his temples.

"Fuck love," I heard him mutter. That must have been one of his magical spells because, a split second later, the massive Ballroom door cracked open.


	28. Chapter 28

**HYNEK**

The massive Ballroom door cracked open. The three of us tensed up.

"This was our best night ever," Eva's voice said tenderly.

"I can't agree more." Matthew let out a charming laugh. Someone pushed and the crack widened. Given the weight of all that wood, it must have been him.

"Thank you for this night. For how gentle and understanding you are," he went on. "And for these last five years."

By then, none of us was breathing anymore.

"Thank _you_."

At last, the entrance fully opened just to reveal the two of them kissing on cheeks. In a safe distance from each other's mouth.

Eva's face lit up as she saw me. She instantly rushed over and hugged me. I shot the Canadian an accusatory glance which was instantly returned. Without a word, we concluded it was easier to just forgive each other.

(That said, he re-established visa requirement for Czechs shortly after.)

I offered Eva my arm and she happily accepted. As we were leaving, someone rushed after us, then poked me in the back. It was Laura. She was handing me my bow tie.

"Sorry for yesterday. And… all the days before," she said, eyes on the ground.

"What do you mean?"

"You know. For starters, I called you a slut."

 _Oh, that._ I was thankful Eva had moved aside in the meantime for some business phone call.

"I didn't mean to. I'm a nice person, really. I was just angry at you for spreading the gossip..." She started to scratch off her nail polish. "Or, rather, not denying it."

"Listen, I don't hold it against you the slightest bit. I deserve plenty of names. I just don't get why you picked 'slut'?"

"You see…" She took a deep breath and looked up at last. "Say, how much do you remember of the banana split night?"

Not much, to be honest. Just partying on some new drug. Waking up naked and sore all over. That was all. I told her so.

"And yet, you did not deny the rumors," she moaned. I did not indeed. Until quite recently, I didn't even know there were any. Be that as it may have been, the last thing I wanted was to hurt her.

"I'm sorry. I'm a jerk."

"And a liar. The truth is, we didn't sleep together," she said.

 _Really. What a shame._

"Okay. So that makes me a jerk. And a liar. But how am I slut?"

I never should have asked. Ignorance is bliss.

"Well." There was no polish left on her nails by then. "I guess it would be fair to tell you what actually happened that night. Just keep in mind you wanted to. You _asked_ me to."

"Give it to me straight. I can take it."

"Well," she sighed again. "Let us say that…"

"Yeees?"

"That the banana was not a metaphor. And I wasn't the one getting splitted."

I must have looked like I was seizing. I certainly felt that way.

Before she left, she forced the tie into my fist. And a piece of paper, too. My trembling hands unfolded it. There was a lipstick mark and a bunch of digits scribbled on it.

"I do _not_ want your number!" I cried out after her, trying to contain what was boiling inside me.

"That's from the queen."

"Elisabeth?!" I mumbled, perplexed. Suddenly, I could feel my mouth quirking into a grin. "You don't say. Do you think she likes me back?!"

Laura rolled her eyes.

"Wake up! She's royal. And… what? Eighty-two?"

"Age is just a number," I quipped.

"Whatever. I actually meant _that_ queen." The Belgian pointed at Billy the guardian who had just turned up for his morning shift. He blew me a kiss, made the call-me gesture and disappeared.

* * *

I spent the following five minutes leaning against a nearby wall. _Never again am I turning my back to that Belgian girl._

Eva hung up and joined me again.

"Come on, sweetie." I put my arm around her shoulders. "Let's go get us some breakfast before heading home. What would you like? My treat."

"Anything will do." Before walking out of the door, she had a quick look at Matthew and Laura. They were snogging like it was an olympic discipline. And he didn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed about it. Eva turned to face me again. "Maybe except pancakes and waffles."

I couldn't agree more.

* * *

"Mr. Czechia, good afternoon." My boss's secretary rang me later that day. "You were not present at today's meeting. What reason should I put in the minutes?"

"Absent for lady problems."

Silence.

"You _do_ know that excuse only works if you're a lady?"

"That's sexist! I'm serious. There were lots of ladies and I had problems with all of them."

More silence.

"Family issues, then," I suggested.

"You don't have a family per se."

"You're cruel."

Silence yet again.

"Look. Why don't you just tell me the truth?!"

"Alright, alright." I took a deep breath. "Me and my ex-lover - who wasn't _really_ my ex-lover - flew to UK to prevent my sister who's - thank you for so _kindly_ pointing that out - not _really_ my sister from promising herself to the wrong man. I stole a royal guard's heart away. Then, we drank Tatra Tea and Chateau Mouton-Rothschild 1945 and ate spacecake with the Queen of England and -"

"I'll just put in 'sick'," she sighed and hung up.


	29. Chapter 29

**Two chapters today! Happy holidays, everyone :)**

* * *

 **TORIS**

 **In Eurocity Train, the Night of Proposal**

People started to murmur, exchanging looks tinged with all the possible negative emotions. A faceless voice asked us to kindly wait for fifteen minutes. I went on toying with my phone.

Fifteen minutes became half an hour. I was starting to get nervous.

Half an hour became an hour. My phone ran out of battery. The voice told us that following a major accident on the English side, we would be held there for a little longer. That they would keep us updated. But the second I heard "major accident", I… You see, by then, I was feeling so frustrated that my eternally hyperactive mind went completely blank. I didn't think. I didn't feel a thing anymore.

When life gives you lemons, make a lemonade, they say. Long story short - that night, I ran out of sugar.

* * *

We were stuck there for five hours. Five hours of hugging myself not to feel the cold. Five hours of my stomach burning and no Gaviscon in my briefcase. Five hours of not knowing whether my text reached her. I hated my life. And, truth be spoken, I hated Eva Kučerová, too.

I suddenly became conscious the blond was right. I was the one living an illusion. For almost twenty years, I was giving myself to a woman that clearly didn't want any of it. Never had and never would.

And that was what Francis had tried to tell me.

' _As for now, I really think it's time for you to_ _move on_ , mon ami.'

Yes. Yes, it was.

* * *

I was the first person to enter St. James's Park that day. On Saturday 5 am, it's really just you and them squirrels.

 _I promised to watch over her, but I will not any longer. She's an adult. My guard is ending today._

 _I'll check on her one last time. If she said no, I would make sure she gets safely to the airport and that's it. If she said yes, I would leave her alone. For good._

At last I approached the Buckingham palace. The ancient habit of scanning strategic buildings for weak spots instantly kicked in. But I didn't need that anymore. We were in the twenty-first century. Now, in every Western kitchen, there was at least one Eastern European employee. And they have always been happy to let me in.

I walked and walked until I found the little alleyway through which the personnel accessed the building. Even the ground around the palace looked like it had just been mopped. I went on searching until something cracked under my foot. I looked down. It was a fry. Lots of fries scattered all around. They looked fresh. Saliva flooded my mouth. My last meal was now fourteen hours ago. I started to bend over.

Halfway down, I stopped, remembering the embarrassing video of me on the internet.

And then, my stomach rumbled so loudly it outcried all my thoughts.

"Oh, cobblers!" I mumbled to myself, mocking the buttery British accent. "It's not like Her Majesty the Queen of England herself will see me!"

I crouched and bit into the first fry. Only then did I notice the elderly lady sitting next to me.

"I beg to differ."

* * *

I just stood there, staring like a dimwit.

It was her, it was her indeed. Well, her hair was sleep-tousled, her outfit a long way from royal and there was an extra large serving of fast food fries in her hand, but it was her.

"We… didn't see each other!" I blurted out and started away.

"Hold it." She didn't even raise her voice. She didn't need to. She had the kind of voice you can't even consider disobeying. I stopped in my tracks. "Come back here, will you?"

Slowly, I turned around. I knew there were rules to follow when meeting the head of the Commonwealth, but which? Once, following Feliks's advice, I even signed up for a British royal etiquette training session. Turned out he just wanted to go to London to do some shopping and have me carry his bags around. _My boss is going to kill me for messing up like this._

But she didn't seem the slightest bit angry. Instead, she proffered the cup.

"Have as many as you wish."

 _Do I look like a charity case?!_ a part of me felt like scolding her. _On second thoughts, you've been eating fries from the ground,_ another part of me pointed out. _So, technically, yes, Toris. You_ are _a charity case._

"Do go ahead. Otherwise, it would go to waste. I hate to throw away food."

My stomach won over my pride once more and I accepted the fries.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Thank _you_. I'm trying to avoid starch, anyway."

"Fun night?" I asked. She tilted her head sideways a bit, contemplating me through the squinted eyes.

"You can say that. On a different matter, you seem familiar. Did I used to own you?"

"I do not think so, Ma'am."

"Oh, I remember!" She smiled mischievously. Her face suddenly looked so much younger. "It was back in late forties, in Warsaw. I was somewhat hungover and ended up in your restaurant. You cooked me an amazing soup. It was a shocking pink color. I couldn't have asked for anything better to put me back on my feet again. And you had this blond effeminate friend. He showed me a foolproof method of dealing with dark circles."

Honestly, I did not remember, but felt pleased all the same.

"Thank you very much. I will be happy to call my effeminate friend about any makeup advice you might need. And the soup is called _šaltibarščiai._ I will be honoured to cook one for you anytime you like."

"I am too old to care about dark circles. Cooking-wise, there's no time like the present." One of her feet was already in the kitchen. And, just like millions of others, I didn't hesitate to follow her.


	30. Chapter 30

**TORIS**

English royal kitchens were like nothing I had seen in a moment, but there was little time to look around. I grabbed what I needed and got to work.

"Excellent. Just like I remember." She grinned after the first spoonful. It felt good to be appreciated. "It truly is enjoyable, all those different flavours forming a perfect marriage."

I flinched at the last word, remembering why I was there in the first place. I hugged my cup of tea.

"Ma'am, if I may…"

"You most certainly may."

"A young lady, one of my peers, was being proposed to in your palace last night. By someone close to you, as a matter of fact. Would you happen to know how it went?"

If she was surprised by my question, she didn't let it show.

"She said no. She is no longer in the premises, either."

"She turned him down and left?!"

"It seems so."

 _Oh yes yes YES YES YES YES YES! Thousand times YES!_ I struggled not to jump on the table and shout my joy out. _SHE REFUSED! YES! YEEEESSSSS!_

Following her weird look, I cleared my throat.

"That's... most… unfortunate," I managed, solemn.

"Not really." She extracted the last piece of egg from her plate. "I have to admit I was really curious about what had happened and since the young man was, let us say, _busy_ , I decided the security camera in the Ballroom might be helpful. I found out they argued a little, then talked each other down, drank a few bottles and went to sleep."

The jolts of pleasure almost gave me a migraine.

"Are you interested in the girl or the boy?" she asked unceremoniously. Suddenly, I remembered that I needed to forget her. Move on at last.

"The girl. Anyhow, that's over now."

"Why is that?"

"She's…" _How can one explain this?_ "Like fries. Making me do all kind of crazy, stupid things. And generally bad for my health," I sighed.

"And are you going to give up fries?"

Realizing where it was heading, I started to laugh.

"No."

"So?" she asked partly in triumph, partly in gentle mockery.

"This is different." I shook my head, in the dumps again. "I don't want her to be miserable. Look at me! I don't have a body like a Greek God! I'm not famous, nor powerful! And there are so many things I won't be able to give her. She's now used to receiving jewels. Designer dresses. Luxury holidays. I just…"

I wanted to go on, but something in her expression made me stop. She heaved a sigh.

"Why do you men always believe love has something to do with looks, power or money?!"

No words came to me.

"Think," she went on. "Last night, she said no to all of that. Just like all good women, she must have different priorities."

"But.. which ones?" I wondered aloud.

"How would I know?!" She laughed again. "I am just a hungover old lady!"

"I am more than a millennium old and, believe it or not, you are the single finest hungover lady I have ever seen," I declared. She shook her head with a dismissive smile, but her eyes lit up all the same.

"I'll tell you something." She leaned in. "When she first came over for tea, I was pleasantly surprised. Perfect looks, polished manners. Later that night, I happened to be passing through the corridor when the butler knocked on her door. A totally unknown person opened. She was wearing something that looked like old male underwear, socks with toes and a T-shirt saying 'Stop staring at my Tatras'. About a dozen gherkins were sticking out of her mouth, as if she had been trying to find out how many of them could possibly fit in there. And, at that moment, I knew for sure she would never be happy in the Commonwealth. She's good at adapting to circumstances, but deep down, she just wants to be… Well, herself. And be loved for _that_."

That picture made me love her even more.

"As for you, do not underestimate yourself. You have a lot to offer. You've just cooked for the Queen of England and she utterly enjoyed it. That's remarkable, even to my standards."

I must have blushed a bit.

"I don't mean to brag, but I've learnt from Mr. France himself."

"Oh, really? Then you are certainly good with desserts. How about something chocolatey?"

I sprang up to get some chocolate, cream and cinnamon.

"Anyway, please do me a favor and keep holding on a little bit longer," the monarch said half an hour later. "She has just broken up with her first love. They spent almost five years together. She'll be prone to making some unfortunate choices now. She's going to need someone. And this." She pointed at the almost finished _mousse_. " _Lots_ of these."

* * *

 **EVA**

Brother helped me find the desk where to buy a flight home, kissed my cheeks and ran off to catch his own plane. I watched him disappear, then turned around and walked to the other side of the airport.

I could have gone literally anywhere. I don't know why I picked Vilnius. Yours was just the first place I could think of.

I jump off the bus and eye the Stebuklas tile for a second. No, I'm good. I don't have a wish to make. Just… be. All around me. Fill my senses. That's all I ask.

Something's drawing me to an old hotel overlooking the river. I'm asking for the top floor, but that's somebody's flat, the clerk says. I get a room just underneath.

And, as I open the door, there you are. You smile and I feel weak in the knees. I follow you to the balcony. The city's slowly lighting up. Our skins brush. I need your touch. Your hands on my body, speaking the language only we know.

Your thumb stroking my cheek.

 _You are beautiful._

Your palm against my back.

 _Come to me, I'll keep you safe._

Your fingers lacing with mine.

 _You're a part of me._

You hand me a cup you're drinking from. I have a sip, then give it back. You put it away and kiss me. Do I taste of mead?

You're the breath I can't seem to catch. And once I do, I feel like I died a little. In the most beautiful way there is.

When I wake up, you're not there. Never really been, I know.

I wrap a blanket around my naked body and step onto the balcony again, eyes across the river. Something has changed. The greyish bank is now covered with flowers. Young, red and full of life. They're planted in a strange shape - a shape of three words.

 _AŠ TAVE MYLIU._

* * *

 **TORIS**

I don't know why I came to Bratislava. In case you needed me, I guess. Not that it was probable. But as long there was the slightest chance you might, yours was the place to be.

The second I got off the plane, I knew you were not home. I walked all the way to the center anyway. A luxury hotel had grown up there in the meantime (I'm so proud of you!). It overlooks the river, just like the one I live in. I consider getting a room on the side facing your flat, then get a better idea. There's a bridge with an observation tower nearby - I still wonder what has got into you to built it in a shape of an UFO. I get to the top, grab the spyglass and aim it at the castle. A cat is scratching at one of the closed shutters; nobody answers. You're not there.

I cross the bridge, buy some ham, then walk as close to the castle as an outsider can. The feline comes by, eats the treat.

"Where is your Mistress?" I ask her as she brushes against my knees. She looks at me as if to say: _How would I know? I'm a cat._

"Come on, you have an instinct for these things," I insist. She turns away, stares intently into the distance. North-east. My home. Yes, home seems like a good place to go.

Believe it or not, the further from your place I get, the more strongly I feel you. Your presence is all over my capital. By the time I get to my building, I'm overwhelmed. I'm checking every single room, then stop in the last one to catch my breath. That's when you enter. There are no words for how beautiful you are, how you make me feel. I guide you to the balcony. Look, this is my kingdom. Be our queen.

We're drinking mead from the same cup. We kiss. We're married now.

Your touch. Your face. Your voice. Your smell.

I'm melting into you.

You're melting into me.

Tonight, this world is a perfect place.

When I wake up, you're not there. Never truly been. But I feel more alive than ever before. I run outside; I want the whole world to know. That some feelings can switch everything around. Make wondrous what seemed desolate. Even turn tired soil into a luxuriant flower patch. All that in just one night.

 _I love you. I love you with all my heart._


	31. Chapter 31

**TORIS**

As soon as I could, I called Francis.

"Oh, hello. I just wanted to thank you for helping me out the other day. And for your concern. But I'm afraid I cannot follow your advice."

Silence.

"Euh...?"

"You know. Friday, just before the train left. You said 'it's really time for you to... _something_ '. I guessed you meant 'move on'. Forget about her and -"

The familiar _honhonhon_ cut through my words.

"Not at all, _mon ami!_ I simply suggested you go find your seat. Make yourself comfortable. That's all. I'm a country of love, aren't I? I gathered you weren't going to London to see Big Ben."

I in turn went speechless.

"I'd struggled to talk the youngsters out of it, but neither would listen. Many of us had tried and you were the only one who made a difference. So now, do whatever feels right. Just remember to take care of your own self first."

* * *

 **HYNEK**

From that royal night on, every time I thought of Eva, her past, present and future, Elisabeth's words would pop up in my mind.

 _'I'm not leaving you to_ anyone _. You and I have been through so much together. Nobody else knows you, nobody understands you the way I do. Nobody will truly give you what you need. Nobody is good enough for you._ Nobody _.'_

I had an idea. I just needed to think it through. Find answers to some questions. Like how on Earth make it happen. Whether it was all safe. And how she would feel about it. As for me, I was already way too deep in that familiar quicksand for my opinion to matter.

* * *

 **TORIS**

Francis's advice was an old one. One that I accepted every time I flew; one that I never applied on the firm ground.

"Remember to put your own oxygen mask on before helping others."

I had neglected my own self for a while - both as a human and a country. So I did a general checkup. Bought the recommended vitamins, had a tooth decay treated, got a prescription for contact lenses. Went to a sauna, got a haircut. Then, I started to research on my dropping GDP and who could possibly replace my soon-to-be-retired boss.

Only once I had everything running did I check on her.

She still ignored my emails, phone calls, everything. Arranged herself never to meet me in person (I just don't believe in such degree of coincidence). At that point, any normal man would have let go. Except…

There was this one moment that haunted me. It happened while she was still an unhappy girlfriend. Despite her efforts to avoid me, we found ourselves standing in the same empty office. She panicked and tried to run off. I grabbed her wrist, stilled her. She moaned to let her go. And I just hugged her. It took her a few seconds to pull away. When you don't like to be hugged, you break off instantly, don't you?

It all happened so quickly, but if I could go back in time, I would never release her. I would just hug her tighter. Whisper in her ear "What is troubling you?" again and again until she told me. I bet we would have solved it.

But I broke the hug when she most needed one. And haven't seen her since.

Time went by and she still didn't talk to me. Every time I saw her, she was accompanied. And I didn't want to look like a stalker. So, considering there was no other way to get in touch with her, I decided to go back to the olden ways. Regular mail.

I started to write her short letters. About everything and anything. With a brand new fountain pen, on a classy writing paper. Then postcards. From the places I have been, with flowers, cats or anything I thought she might like. I'd send small gifts, too. And every week, one chocolate-cinnamon mousse.

Conscious she might have her mail filtered as well, I never mentioned my name. But I dropped hints. Little things only the two of us knew. Nothing changed. She would never go beyond a professional hello with me.

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 _It is a good idea,_ I thought to myself, putting the custom made file back in my briefcase. It was white-blue-red with a golden linden leaf imprinted on it. _I know it is._

We had both gone a long way since 1992. We had matured. And I knew we were ready for this now.

It did cross my mind that she might not be that thrilled about the concept at first. But the more she'd think, the more advantages she would see in our union. Learning from each other, sharing resources, privileges, already existing agreements…

And, most of all, the burden of being who we were.

She'd be careful this time. Extremely careful. But I knew she wouldn't just dismiss it. I'd pay her the best lawyers in the world to go through the paperwork, all she had to do was ask. We could both keep our houses at first. Then, perhaps, gradually, move in together. And if, maybe, just maybe… within months, years, decades... she realized how much I'd changed and that I was all in all a good person, I'd court her. Honestly and properly, without any need to rush. We'd see where life leads us.

I thought summer would be a good time to tell her. It wasn't such a busy period, she would have all the time she needed for reflection. There was this UN climate conference taking place in Venice that July. I reckoned Venice was the right place.

Because, when asking a woman this kind of question - for the third time, no less - you'd better do it properly.


	32. Chapter 32

**TORIS**

I almost said no when Alfred invited me to his birthday party after the World Climate Conference. I didn't even want to go to Venice in the first place. That's a city for couples.

I must have looked really miserable, because the receptionist gave me a free upgrade. I pushed the door of my suite. Plush sofa with two wine glasses at hand. Rainfall shower. Spa bath. King size bed. A room for couples. I felt even worse than before.

Then, I remembered I was supposed to take care of myself. And that I didn't even need to get out of the hotel where we were all staying, just go down to the bar. A little bit of social interaction would do me good.

"I'm glad you came after all." The American patted my back. "You might have noticed the high percentage of hotties around. Remember my record per night? Well, I think I'm gonna break it. And you know what? I have a feeling something special will happen to you tonight as well. Anyway, just let me know should you need anything! See ya!" With that, he went off to the bar. I turned around to look for Eduard, but found myself facing someone much more appealing instead. For a while, the world stood still. How could a dishevelled teenager in worn out jeans stop the Earth like this?

"Eva… It's… it's good to see you. I… I didn't expect you to be here."

Maybe Alfred was right. Something was coming my way. I deserved something good coming my way...

"Well, I am," she replied coldly. "I hope that's not a problem because I'm not leaving anytime soon."

 _I see, my poor thing. But there's no need to show your fangs to_ me. I _won't try to hurt you. On the contrary!_ I told her I knew about the break-up. That I was there if she needed to talk.

Then, the last thing I expected happened.

"You're the last person I want to talk to!" she yelped, fuming. "And next time _you_ want to talk to _me_ , just… fucking don't," she spat, then left.

And I just kept on standing there like the idiot I was. Just how, _how_ did I assume that a _good_ thing was about to happen? Will I ever learn?!

* * *

I would still be standing there if Eduard didn't pick me up and treated me to a drink.

"Check out that redhead. Would you do her?"

I hummed absent-mindedly.

"How about that fat delivery guy with a peeking buttcrack?"

"Sure," I mumbled to my beer.

"Maybe we should have a threesome."

"Yeah." I checked my watch. "We should…"

"LEEDU! ARE YOU THERE?!" Eduard yelled, snapping me out of my thoughts. He frowned as I rubbed my forehead. "Is it her again? What _didn't_ happen between you two this time?!"

Only when he menaced to go talk to her on my behalf did I tell him.

"Perhaps she's just no good. Did that cross your mind?!"

I felt like choking him for that, but I decided to justify her tactless actions instead. Until he interrupted me, made me turn around. Oh, God. There she was. With him. Again. Snogging and groping in that I've-had-one-too-many-and-I-want-to-do-it-right-here-right-now way. How was that possible?!

I blinked, then blinked some more until I saw clearly. No, it wasn't him. Far worse, actually. It was his older brother. For a second or two, blood froze in my veins.

… _Alfred's a good person. I'm sure it's serious. He'll marry her and they'll have a garden and at least six brats and…_

Six. The record number of girls he'd had in one night was six.

 _Not my problem, anyway. She's free to sleep with anyone she wants._

Six.

 _But Eva doesn't sleep around. Eva makes love and…_

Six.

 _Screw this. This is none of my concern and..._

Six.

 _Maybe this is different. Maybe he really..._

SIX.

And he wanted to break that record tonight.

I stood up and started towards the dance floor. Lots of things crossed my mind, memories of all five senses bubbling out. All of them pushing me towards that moment. Those words.

"That's as far as you're getting with her!"

Oblivious to everyone's staring, I tore her out of his arms and dragged her away.

* * *

Once in the hallway, I struggled to think of a place to go. I should have taken her to her room, wait outside until she fell asleep and leave. But I panicked and took her to my suite. Definitely not the wisest choice of my life.


	33. Chapter 33

**TORIS**

Eva tried to fight me, but because of all the alcohol running through her veins, it was just a minor inconvenience. Finally, I pushed her onto my bed and locked the door. _There. Nothing bad can happen to you now._

"If you wanted me to yourself, you could have just said so." She let out a cheeky laugh.

"Go to sleep." I grabbed one of the pillows and threw it on the couch. That would do it for me.

"I can't sleep fully dressed," she retorted in a teasing tone I'd never heard from her before.

"Strip then," I mumbled.

"Can't. Too drunk."

I looked at her. She was smiling so widely I could count her teeth. I knew I should have let her deal with it on her own, but I fell into her trap anyway. I stood up and, shaking despite myself, removed her shirt and jeans. Throughout the whole time, I struggled to keep my eyes half closed and I was doing pretty good until… well, until, suddenly, she was there, dressed in nothing but a bit of silk and lace. A drop of sweat ran down my back. It was getting too much. I sprang up to leave.

"The bra," she said demandingly.

"You can do that yourself."

"Can't. Too complicated."

I thought that if she was still capable of speaking, she was most likely capable of undressing herself, but the fool I was, I played her little game again.

I hadn't had much practice in removing bras these last two decades. Having to do it with eyes almost shut didn't help, either. Anyhow, soon enough, that wasn't my only problem.

As I clumsily reached behind her back, she grabbed me and drew me closer. Closer than we'd ever been. Her mouth travelled around my face, covering it in passionate kisses. My thumbs stroked her back, the skin almost softer than the silk of her garment. Her smell gorged with pheromones was quickly overpowering me, my heart beating so strongly I couldn't hear my own thoughts. And, at that moment, my human body totally, completely betrayed me.

She smiled knowingly at the telltale bulge under my waist. Brushed her knee against it. I bit my tongue not to moan out loud.

"Don't I look yummy?" She chuckled. "Come on, have a bite," she whispered in my ear, then licked it. I was on fire and so was she. Her hot fingers laced with mine, guiding me towards her belly and then even lower, her body temperature rising with every centimeter. "You know you want to," she spurred me on even further. My fingertips reached the hem of her underwear. I was giving in. I hadn't eaten in twenty years and now I _did_ want a bite. A big, juicy one. And another and another and another until I ate her whole. And I knew I could, I could do anything I liked as many times as I liked because she wouldn't remember anything in the morning and...

 _That's it. She won't remember. Because this is not her._

I opened my eyes to meet hers. There was audacity, mischief and lust. But no Eva. Because this was not her. Just the body of the one I loved. Or used to.

I sprung up once again, grabbed a random T-shirt and threw it to her without a single look. Surprised, she mumbled something I couldn't make out (or didn't want to make out) and within a minute or so, she was asleep. I locked myself in the bathroom until I calmed down.

* * *

I was just about to change to pyjamas when my phone started to ring. It wasn't a European number. Probably Alfred. _Fuck_.

"Yes?" I replied as neutrally as I could.

"Hello?" I'd never got him angry before, so I tried to be ready for pretty much anything. But, truth be told, whispering wasn't on my list. "I understand it is quite late. I really hope I am not disturbing you." Then, I realized that it was actually Alfred's younger brother talking. Still, he sounded weird. His voice had this I-am-nervous-but-I-am-trying-not-to-sound-so tinge.

"Everything alright?" I ventured.

There was a very loud swallow. "S-sure."

He wasn't alone.

"Are you in danger?" I asked in French.

"Euh... _au fait..._ "

"Cut that gibberish! I don't speak baguette!" a second voice hissed. Female. Eastern European accent.

Next, there was a bawl. not of pain, neither the idea of pain. It was the unique and horrific I-do-not-want-to-become-a-girl bawl.

There were only two Eastern European females stubbornly refusing to learn French and capable of maiming a man in the worst manner possible to get their way. One of them was just getting off a Minsk-Venice flight and having her fake Lithuanian passport checked.

"Matthew, would you please put your phone on loudspeaker?"

"Sure..."

"Thank you." A part of my voice came back to me. "Greetings, comrade Héderváry."

"Comrade Laurinaitis," she replied. "Nice guess. Anyway, as it happens, I was just going through some paperwork with... Who are you again?!"

"I'm Ca-"

"Nevermind. I don't really care. Did you know dude's collecting axes? I'm holding one right now. Anyways, somehow, the business talk deviated towards those _ter-ri-fic_ years some of us spent as one big Soviet family. And the young man provided an interesting detail. He _forgot_ to share it with you before and would love to catch up now. Isn't that so?" she finished in a saccharine tone. There was yet another super loud gulp. I imagined Erzi with that creepy look in her eyes and a wood chopper axe hovering over his lap. I'd never really liked him much, but nobody deserved that kind of fate.

"Erzsébet, would you mind lowering your weapon?"

"Don't worry. It's already pretty low," she reverted with unhidden satisfaction.

"I meant - please remove it. I'd be much obliged if you could do that for me."

One disappointed grumble. Metal clinking against the floor. And a massive sigh of relief.

"Thank you!" the blond beamed.

"No problem. Now, what do you two need from me?"

"Well. Remember the time I suggested you were living in a lie?"

"Of course. You were right. I just didn't think clearly back then."

"No! I wasn't!" he exclaimed. "I mean... There's something I never told you. Because I was really angry at you. But Miss Hungary here is right. You _should_ know. At the time she lived in Moscow, Eva used to have quite a crush on you."

I snorted.

"And how come _you_ know that while _I_ do not?"

"I asked," he retorted. _Touché_. "Anyhow, I honestly don't know how she feels about you now. I just know these things don't always disappear with time. So go ahead."

"Go ahead with what?"

"With what you strongly recommended me to do years ago. Tell her how you feel. Make her happy."

I didn't know what to reply.

"I couldn't do the second one," he went on. "You _can_ , though."

I shook my head. Not that they could see.

"If you need help, we're here. We can arrange, solve or fix _anything_ ," the Hungarian added.

At last, I looked at Eva. Never before had I experienced a state of such emotional sterility.

"She tried to seduce me a while ago," I started tiredly. "And I realized I didn't love her anymore. Can you fix that?"

Silence.

"I did not suppose so. All in all, it's for the better. Thank you anyway. Goodbye for now."

I hung up. A text came in right after. It was from them.

' _You are rubbish at lying.'_

I threw the phone to some unknown place and drifted off on the couch.


	34. Chapter 34

**HYNEK**

The day after conference, I was having a business breakfast and a meeting with Litva. I even missed Alfred's birthday party (we decided to catch up later) to be fresh, get on with it as soon as possible and thus have the whole afternoon for _her_.

If only the Baltic could have been bothered to turn up in time...

* * *

Translation:

Atsisveikinimas (Lithuanian) = Farewell

* * *

 **TORIS**

Just as expected, in the morning, Eva has no memory of the previous night. I am asking her to leave. I can't bear to see her.

 _Just the body of the one I love. Used to._

Once the body leaves, I open the perfume bottle she'd once given me, inhale and lose myself in it. _Her._ The soul of the one I loved. There is only a drop or two left. I pour it into the bath I'd just drawn myself. So she can seep into my skin forever - the only way I can properly tell her _atsisveikinimas_.

And, I don't know how, all of a sudden, she is back, standing at the bathroom doorstep, asking me whether she can come in. Did she come to torture me some more? I let her in anyway. My worries confirm when she sits down on the edge of the tub and asks how I feel about her. She's asking, even though she already knows. She's here to torture me indeed. And I'm ready to send her away once more when…

When, in a flash, she slips, yelps and… she _falls into my arms._ For the third time.

 _The first time is an accident._

 _The second one, a coincidence._

 _But the third time is Fate._

I stare into her eyes. Eva. She's there. The one that once found me completely drunk, crying like a baby and, from all the things she could have done, she took my problems for hers, thus saving my skin. God knows she didn't need more trouble back then. Still, she never said a word about the incident. She accepted me as the imperfect person I was. And when I finally got a chance to pay her back in kind, I held it against her.

I can't believe it's her - my Eva, pure as the morning dew, strong as a warrior, fragile as a flower. The one I loved, still do and always will. She needs to be forgiven now. And that's the least I can do.

We kiss. It's everything I've ever imagined and more. I pull her towards me. Our pulses align. She's asking me to come closer. But we're already so close that the only way to get even closer is…

* * *

Eva Kučerová loves me. Eva Kučerová loves me. _Eva Kučerová loves me!_

She's sleeping next to me. This time, it's real.

We've made love. Not just once. Sweetly and tenderly, wildly and hungrily, passionately and desperately. While she's resting, I decide to give my journal a proper end.

 _There's a cute naked girl lying next to you and you're writing this shit,_ my screen suddenly says. There is only one person that enjoys hacking into my virtual workspace. Or into hotel security softwares to create master keys. That person happens to be friends with Erzsébet.

 _Wrong,_ I reply.

 _You're rubbish at telling l-,_ Eduard starts to type.

 _She is_ **BEAUTIFUL** , I finish.

She's waking up. Looking at me, asking about what I'm typing.

"Just a little something about my past my boss suggested I write," I reply.

(Have I told you? A week ago, the Nice Lady officially became my boss!)

"Why think about the past if the present is so sweet?" she wonders. And she's perfectly right. I'm putting my laptop away.

She's promising me beautiful things. Whispering them in my ear. She keeps on whispering as we snuggle closer, even as we make love until we both lose the train of thoughts.

She's lying down on my chest. A brown hair ends up on my lips, soft as an angel's kiss. Her lids grow heavy with exhaustion.

"This dream…" she starts before drifting to slumber. I relax as well. I've already got used to her falling asleep in the middle of our talks. And it doesn't matter - this time, I know exactly what she was about to say.

That _this_ dream _was_ meant to come true.


	35. Chapter 35

**TORIS**

"I was so scared," Eva moaned against my chest after she covered it with kisses. "I almost didn't make it when I lost you two decades ago. And then, when you brought brother home and we drank mead and talked and laughed… I realized I still felt the same way about you. And every time I saw you since then, it got deeper. I didn't want another heartbreak… I just… Didn't…"

I hugged her before she could start weeping. I couldn't believe she thought I still liked Natalia. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Just so you know, the letters and parcels… That was me," I whispered in her ear. "Did they please you, at least a little bit?"

She pulled away and grimaced a tad.

"What do you mean?"

"My letters. I wrote them in a deep green ink. Then flowers. Seashells. Makeup. Homemade sweets. Didn't you get them?"

She just shook her head, struggling to hide her disappointment.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I didn't receive any of it. Now that I've come to think about it, I haven't received anything from anyone in a while. I didn't notice because I get practically everything by email now, but..." She looked at me again. "I'm so sorry for your trouble."

I said it didn't matter anymore. Because it really didn't. Instead, I drew her close. She was like a whole garden blooming and giving fruit at the same time. So intoxicating I didn't know where to touch, smell, taste first. But we both needed to attend to our duties, so I just kissed her and aimed for the shower. As I came back, I heard her talking to someone in her mother tongue, then putting the phone away.

"I've just spoken to Slovenia - you know, the one that lives down in the south. We often get confused. And the fact that she also calls herself Eva doesn't help. So, as it happens, she has been getting my mail. She said she hadn't read your letters because she hates anonymous love letters. Just between us - she once told me that, despite what they say, the war in Yugoslavia actually started with an unsigned love letter," she concluded in whisper. Not that I felt surprised. One girl and six men living in one house… there was bound to be an armed conflict sooner or later.

"Anyway, she says the _mousse_ is a killer. She's going to miss it."

I hung my head down.

"Well, thank her."

"What is it, anyway?"

"Just… something I like to make for dessert. Nothing special."

"Are you sure?" she cooed. "It seems it was created specifically for me." I blushed as she took my face in her hands and covered my mouth with hers. The kiss was long and intense. She hummed appreciatively as she pulled away. "Does it taste as good as you?"

"Better," I laughed.

"Do you think you could make me some?"

"As soon as I have access to a kitchen."

"Thank you!"

"In the meantime, you can have anything you like." I nuzzled her hair. "Anything. Just ask."

 _"Anything?"_

 _"Anything."_

"How about…" She leaned in and whispered something in my ear. Waves of hot and cold rushed through me as I started to fulfill her wish. _I guess duties will have to wait._

* * *

Translation:

Ahoj (Czech/Slovak) = Hello

* * *

I couldn't bring myself to leave the bed. With the curtains closed, the windows reflected everything that was going on in the bathroom. At that very moment, a delightful young lady was brushing her hair. She was gorgeous in that tight black dress. Gorgeous and _mine_!

My eyes slipped from her reflection to my own. The face of the happiest man on Earth.

 _Oh, yes. He should be getting dressed, too._

Once only topless, I opened the windows wide and plumped up the pillows. Note to self: leave a generous tip for the cleaning lady. She must have read my mind because, a second later, I heard a knock. Still buttoning up my shirt, I ran to the door and opened, instantly wishing I hadn't.

" _Ahoj_ , Litva! "

 _Oh, crap. Why him? Why, of all people…_

"Err… Hi. What can I do for you?"

I was meaning to tell him. Of course I was. But... Maybe not right away. We would date a bit with Eva, then carefully choose a moment to announce it. In the most delicate way possible. Now I was starting to think any way would do. Just not like that. Definitely not like that. I needed to act quickly.

"We had a meeting, did you forget?"

"I'm afraid I did. I'm sorry, but this is not a good time for me."

"Ah, nevermind then. It happens. It's just that you weren't answering my calls, so I decided I'd better check."

I took a step forward and, just as expected, he retreated a bit. What I didn't expect was that he would now see my bed. And only one window just wasn't enough to give the room an instant and complete airing. Heaven knows some aspects of love, however pure, are far from glamorous.

"You know what? How about we -" I started to say, but before I could do anything, the blue eyes widened and a giant grin cut his face in two.

"I can't believe it!" he roared with a good-natured laughter. "You got laid!"

 _Oh crap oh crap oh crap. This can't be happening._

"You finally got over that bitch Belarus! I'm so proud of you!"

 _Please leave now, please leave now,_ I mentally chanted, but it didn't work. Instead, he hugged me.

"Congratulations! Now who's the lucky lady? Do I know her?"

I was completely speechless. And, at that moment, as if we were in some kind of tacky soap opera, the bathroom door clicked shut.

"Hello, brother."


	36. Chapter 36

**HYNEK**

* * *

 _(A/N: Hynek's bitter remark about chess is a reference to chapter 25 in 'Things I Did for Her'. As a birthday treat, Prussia and Czechia decide to pay Lithuania a lady of pleasure. Reluctant at first, he decides to see the girl after all and enjoy himself in his own way. Shortly after, the brothel turns into a chess club.)_

* * *

"Hello, brother."

I couldn't reply. I was far too busy dying inside. A couple of times in a row.

And she just put her shoes on and stood up to leave.

"See you 'round, guys."

 _Click-clack click-clack click-clack_ of her heels, then silence. Long, burning, suffocating silence.

"I gather you didn't play chess?!" I managed at last. He wouldn't meet my eye. I bet he'd rather have gone back to Moscow than been there living the moment. Truth be told, so would I.

"You've got no idea how much I hate you right now."

"I know!" He instantly looked up. "Trust me, I _know_."

 _No, you don't, you prick._

"I must have sawdust instead of a brain because, believe it or not, I actually thought we were friends." A half laugh flew out of my chest, one that didn't have anything to do with positive feelings.

"But I _am_ y-"

His teeth chattered as I threw him against the wall, then plucked him against it, hands around his throat. He didn't fight back. He just looked back at me, ready to receive anything I had in store for him. And I _wanted_ to harm him, as much as I had never harmed anyone. But I couldn't. Not like that. So, however grudgingly, I let go.

"Now listen to me and listen good. I -"

His phone bleeped and he instantly reached into his pocket to retrieve it. We all had the reflex to check our professional phones every five minutes whatever the circumstances, but right then, it just pissed me off beyond words.

"Don't you dare!" I tore it out of his hands, but couldn't help glancing at the screen. A text from Eva's number.

' _Miss u already :* Dinner tonight?'_

"Alright." I took a deep breath and handed the Nokia back, suppressing the urge to choke him with it. "Now, you are going to call her. Tell her you had a fun time, but you're just not ready for a relationship. That you hope that you are cool."

"I'm afraid I can't tell her anything like that," he replied, cold and composed.

"I don't care _what_ you're going to tell her. The point is, you're not getting anywhere near her ever again. She's got a big heart; maybe she'll forgive you one day. As for me, don't count on it."

I crossed my arms and waited, but nothing happened. Just when I was about to change it (manually, if necessary), he finally deigned to speak.

"You really think I'll just call her and -?"

"You can send her a pigeon for all I care!" I shouted, my patience dissipating. "But you'll explain to her, promptly and very clearly, that you do _not_ love her. Get it?!"

"I can't do that." He crossed his arms.

"And why the hell not?!"

"Well, for instance, I'm rubbish at telling lies."

* * *

 **TORIS**

A rich mix of negative emotions tightened his features.

"Many say they love her and a moment later, they throw her away like an old rag doll."

"I'll never -"

"You know what? I don't care. I've dealt with the blond and he was much stronger than me. _You_ will be a piece of cake."

I was just about to ask whether that was supposed to be a threat, when, suddenly… I don't know how to describe it. It was as if I looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. With something else than my eyes.

He was blessed with a prepossessing face; one could understand how come women always fell to his feet. Mother Nature herself must have had a weak spot for him if she spoilt him so much. Had I been at his place, I would have already ruled the world. But what good is a pretty face if it never smiles?!

Those eyes. A mirror to one's soul, they say. This mirror showed me centuries of leaving the best piece of meat for her. Of counting the last coins to check whether it's enough to get liquor, then buying her sweets instead. Centuries of keeping an eye on her, taking blows for her, losing sleep over her. Losing plenty of things over her. A part of his mind included. Not that I could judge.

"What did you mean when you said you'd dealt with the blond?" I inquired in a soft voice, although I already knew. So many things suddenly started to make sense.

"None of your fucking business! And how _dare_ you, anyway?!" He started to pace the space in front of my room back and forth. Inviting him in seemed like a bad idea for several reasons. So I just closed the door and faced my destiny. "How _dare_ you assume you are good enough for her?! You've got nothing. No money, no resources, no power. What can you possibly have to offer?!"

I'd already felt like smacking him before, but never this much. A wave of self-confidence washed over me.

"I'll _always_ stand by her side." I spoke, back straight, chin jutting out. "Love her for whom she is. Strive to satisfy her in every possible way."

Too late did I realize the last sentence was too ambiguous to be said aloud. His fist in my face confirmed my suspicions. Still, believe me or not, it didn't hurt. Quite the contrary - it gave me one hell of a boost.

"Go ahead!" I shouted with the come-on gesture. "Hit me again. Beat me unconscious! I don't mind if it'll make you feel better. You can have anything you like. Life-long supply of beer? Just pick the brands. You want me to set fire to the UN headquarters? Why not, it's always so fucking cold in there. Kiss my boss in public? Dance in front of the whole Europe in my underwear? Anything you want. Anything! I'll go with it! She's worth it! AND IT CAN'T BE WORSE THAN TWENTY YEARS IN FRIENDZONE!"

But he said nothing, just shook his head and walked away.


	37. Chapter 37

**TORIS**

When someone knocked on my door later that day, I felt like ignoring it. Luckily, I opened anyway. It was Eva. She frowned at my still a bit black eye. I mumbled something about an accident. Convinced or not, she kissed the sore, then the rest of my face. I took her hand and brushed it against my cheek again and again. I thought I would never get enough of her.

She was supposed to leave that day, but postponed her flight to stay with me a bit. We agreed she would sleep in my room. It was too early to eat, so she headed for the shower. Once in the doorway, she flashed me a really wide smile. I smiled back. She waited, then just sighed, shrugged and closed the door.

I stretched out on the bed, caressing the sheets, remembering the bitter events they'd triggered earlier.

"At least _I_ didn't try to make her my colony," I mumbled under my breath.

The sound of running water cut through my thoughts. _Hold on a sec! There's a beautiful naked woman in my shower and I'm just sitting here, thinking about… what was I thinking about again? Doesn't matter. In any event, thinking is_ not _what I want to do while there's a beautiful naked woman in my shower._

* * *

 **EVA**

Silly boy. Doesn't recognize an invitation when he gets one. Well, at least I'll have some time for myself. What an afternoon! So many meetings in so little time. Off, off with the dirty sweaty clothes. Rexona let me down after all. The brand new pair of tights didn't last a single hour; I'll have to go shopping as soon as possible. And the report about dairy products due next Tuesday - can't forget that! Which reminds me, the Greek cheese in my fridge must now be a couple of months overdue… What a weird tap. How do I -? Oh. Mmm, this is nice. Nice nice nice. _Hot_. There's never been enough hot water back in Moscow. This is so good. So hot my skin is on fire. That's how I like it.

A familiar hand took place on my hip, a familiar body pressed itself against mine. _So you_ _came after all?_ I could feel how much he wanted me and decided to resist him this time. Just a quick shower, nothing else. Francis was right - with time, I've learnt to enjoy men losing their minds over me.

"First the bath, now the shower. Do you have a thing about water?" I smirked.

"I have a thing about _you_ ," he whispered and nipped my ear. Despite myself, I started to tremble in anticipation. And the quick shower took a bit longer than expected.

* * *

Translation:

Štěstí (Czech) = Felicità (Italian) = Happiness

* * *

 **HYNEK**

 _You think twenty years in friendzone are bad? Try eternity in brotherzone,_ I thought as I sat down at Piazza San Marco, eyes on the horizon. Vaporetti came and went, so did tourists. Somewhere behind my back, a street artist was singing 'Con te Partiro'. I wished I didn't speak Italian.

For some reason, I thought of Eva's roasted chicken. It used to be our traditional Sunday meal. The flesh was always tender, the skin crispy and the rice she served as a side dish light and fluffy. I had tried to reproduce it, but my meat would always end up dry and chewy and the rice all gooey. A culinary nightmare.

There were many things I had lost back in 1992 and couldn't replace ever since. The pecks she would give me. How, when she thought I couldn't see her, she would drink directly from the milk carton. Our toasting with home made beer everytime something good happened. And so on.

That was then. And now… this. Now, she was with him.

Now, it would be _him_ whom she'd welcome home. _He_ would turn a blind eye on her immatureness in exchange of kisses and delicious food. _He_ would make her his. In every possible way.

 _She's easy to love now, isn't she? But where were you when she was tiny and frail and everybody wanted her in chains? It might just be you were one of them._

And he called her Yeva, just like Ivan did. He couldn't even pronounce her name correctly! E-va _,_ for Christ's sake! _E-va!_

I wanted to heave a sigh, but my chest and throat were far too constricted.

"Vee, Enrico! Long time no see! _Come va_?"

I figured that if I ignored the familiar voice, he would just go away. Nope. He sat down next to me.

"What's wrong?"

I couldn't bring myself to look at him; he didn't seem to mind, though. Good old Feliciano. Always silly, always joyful. Always wearing that smile that doesn't always convince me. No wonder they get on so well with Feliks.

"Nothing." I shook my head. "I was just thinking."

"What about?"

" _Štěstí_."

"What about _felicità_?"

I finally managed to heave the sigh.

"How it is in small things. How easily it can be lost." I shrugged. I knew he understood.

"When I am not happy, I try to make others happy."

His words carried a certain wisdom. Every time I did something for her, something unselfish, it never hurt. I would always be greeted with nothing but that warm serenity deep down. Memories, oh, memories… Thousands of iron chains linking me to her, never to be broken, never to rust away.

"Like, for example, I cook them some delicious pasta!"

I laughed bitterly.

"I'm probably the only person in this world who doesn't know how to cook pasta."

"It's super simple, really!" he beamed. "Come along, I'll show you!"

And before I could say or do anything, I was being dragged through the centuries-old alleyways to a shabby building with an even shabbier door. He pulled on the doorknob and a second later, we were standing in a kitchen that would give Jamie Oliver a hard-on.

For a while, we just strolled around the place and Feli proudly showed me all those intriguing items I couldn't even name in my mother tongue. We were halfway done when the waiter rushed in.

" _Salve_ , _amici_. One Margarita and spaghetti Carbonara, please!"

"Let's do it!" the brunet exclaimed happily. "So, first, get yourself a pot and put some water to boil. Yes, like that. So that the pasta can be stirred and thus, cook evenly. Now we'll wait."

While he rummaged in the fridge, I realized the voices from the nearest table sounded familiar. I peeked through the semi-open door and my mouth parted in surprise. Really, just what were the odds?!

" _Andiamo_ , hungry customer is a bad customer!"

I finished the sauce before the water even started to boil. _Oh, yeah. I'm a natural._

"You put some salt in and let it melt like I told you? _Bene._ Proceed with the pasta. _Mamma mia!_ Don't _break_ it! Ouuf. Alright, now all you need to do is stir it from time to time."

He wandered off to assist the _pizzaïolo_. And I couldn't help sneaking a peek at the couple again.

* * *

 **TORIS**

This feels like one of my fantasies. So much so that when she reaches out to hold my hand, I shiver.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure, it's just… I'm a bit of a timid person, you know."

She chuckles.

"You didn't seem timid earlier today when we were both naked in your shower and you asked me to -"

"Hey! That's private!" I chide her a little bit, but can't keep a straight face myself. "No, seriously. That's just about the two of us. The rest of the world doesn't need to know."

"Okay." She nods, probably surprised by the lack of emotion in my voice. "You angry?"

"How can I be angry?!" I laugh. "I feel like in a frozen pizza commercial. There's always a cosy Italian place with red and white tablecloths, a bottle of wine and a girl with cheeks just like yours."

I don't know what I said, but, in a flash, she looks like she wants to crawl under that red and white tablecloth and die.

"They're chubby. I know," she moans.

"No," I'm laughing once more, reaching out to remove the pretty hands hiding the even prettier face. "You got me wrong. You've got high cheekbones - that makes a woman very attractive. Marlene Dietrich had her molars torn out to have the same cheeks as you. Cheeks made for kisses, I like to call them."

And she's blushing, blushing like I've never seen her blush before.


	38. Chapter 38

**EVA**

Never before have I felt like this. So… fulfilled.

I wish I was a sculptor - I would chisel his face out of the finest marble. I wish I was an architect - I would build a breathtaking chapel to keep it in. I would give up everything, move in and worship him for the rest of my days.

There are always so many things running through my head at the same time. I have seen too much, been through so much and that leaves me suspicious and watchful. Being who I am is difficult - those of my kind will confirm. Sometimes I just want to hide and cry, cry until I run out of tears. Sometimes, I do.

We're clinking glasses. The wine, like most Italian wines, is delicious and easy to drink.

I'm so used to being worried that as soon as my biggest problem disappears, I rush to replace it with another to lose sleep over. I have problems, therefore I am. But this morning, I discovered a whole another way to feel alive.

"I love you," he whispered in my ear. I've heard those words before, but… This time, there was something about them, something that made all the clocks stop. Just like my heart.

He supported his confession with a kiss, a whole rain of kisses. He kept falling on me, seeping into my skin, filling me until he was the only thing running through my veins, leaving me hot and cold at the same time and still thirstier until… Until I dissolved into that blissful completeness.

And I… I didn't know something like that could happen between two people.

After that, I drifted to the deepest, sweetest sleep of my life. At last, I could. _Come what may now,_ I thought. _With his hand holding mine like that, I am strong enough to face_ _anything_.

Our eyes meet. He smiles and refills my glass. I feel giddy. I don't think it's the wine.

* * *

 **HYNEK**

"The next step is to pour the pasta and a bit of water into the pan where you've prepared your sauce. Go ahead."

"Can't I just pour the sauce over the pasta? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Sure. But it's much tastier like this. Always cook as if you were cooking for your loved one."

So I imagined it was for her.

" _Finito_!" I beamed two minutes later, not without satisfaction. Feliciano rushed over to check.

" _Bravo_! It's mouth-watering! Though there might be just a tincy-wincy bit too much bacon…"

I had plenty left to learn when it came to cuisine, but one thing I knew for sure.

"There's no such thing as too much bacon," I declared, adamant.

"Fair enough!" he replied. " _You_ are the chef tonight!"

I secretly watched the waiter as he left to hand out the meals. When he stopped at the first table, I gasped for breath.

"Here it goes, folks! _Buon appetito!_ "

"Wow, that's… quite a lot of bacon," Litva marvelled.

"Thankfully there's no such thing as too much bacon," Eva laughed and dug in.

* * *

 **EVA**

"Please tell the chef that was the best Carbonara I've ever had," I say to the waiter as he removes our plates. He nods happily and leaves. I turn to Toris.

"Fancy an ice cream? There's a nice _gelateria_ not far from here."

"That does sound nice. We can do that if you want. But if I may have a suggestion, how about…"

 _...we call it a night? We are both getting up early tomorrow,_ I mentally finish his sentence. I don't doubt it is a good idea, but, just between us, right now, I would love some nice dessert even more. Well, life is not always perfect, is it?

"...you eat your dessert first?"

I blink. Suddenly, there's a tiny pot sitting in front of me, filled with what looks like chocolate _mousse_. It is sprinkled with cinnamon in the shape of my human name.

"Gosh, you… you did this?" I manage, forgetting to close my mouth.

"I promised, didn't I?"

"But… how? Where? When? And… without kitchen... how?!" I can't hide how impressed I am. And he just grins.

"I dropped by earlier today. Latin countries seem really eager to help lovestruck men."

I return his smile, then dig in. It's… quite something. My eyes water along with my mouth.

"Good?"

Good? Far more than that! It's just that… No. It doesn't matter, Eva. Stop thinking this way. He's gone through so much trouble. Shut up and enjoy it.

But it's too late, he sees it on my face.

"It's alright if you don't like it." He turns away, slim fingers fidgeting. "You… don't have to finish. Don't -"

"No!" I cut in. He looks back at me. I shake my head vigorously. "It's heavenly! Just..." Now it's my turn to break the eye contact. Not for long, though. I have already decided I will handle this relationship differently. This time, I'm saying things. "It's delicious, it really is. Could eat tons of it. I just want you to know that… I actually like some other things even more. Like your _skruzdelynas_ , for example."

" _Skruzdelynas_?" He blinks and frowns. He's silent, gaping a bit. There's no anger nor hurt though, just surprise. "That simple, silly thing?"

"Simple things are the best things. And it's not silly, it's wonderful! It's genuine. It's... like you." The more we talk, the more I understand myself.

"I see," he then manages. "But I don't think I can get poppy seeds here, definitely not at this hour…Hold on, I'll check..."

As he reaches for his phone, I mentally roll my eyes and grab his hand.

"It's not about ice cream, chocolate or poppy seeds. It's _you_. The way you are. The way I like you the most - true to yourself. Nothing's sweeter than you. _You_ are my favorite dessert, Toris." I chuckle.

He is a discreet man with a discreet smile. But that minute, the smile grows wider, so much so tiny wrinkles appear around his mouth. I will make sure those are the only ones I ever give him.

He laces his fingers with mine again, leaning in.

"In that case, how about we get back to the hotel and finish the dinner?" he breathes in a seductive voice and kisses my hand. I can feel myself blushing hard again. Oh, my! I do hope there'll be a second serving!


	39. Chapter 39

**HYNEK**

 _She liked my pasta,_ I realized as I watched them leave. _No! She_ loved _it!_

 _Now that I've come to think about it, spaghetti Carbonara is a lot like her favourite meal,_ bryndzové halušky _. Pasta, dairy, bacon. Except_ halušky _take ages to make and except her, nobody knows the recipe. So she settled for this easier alternative._

In my mind, I suddenly found myself standing in her hallway again, reliving the moment from months ago. The day after my breakdown - both as a human and a country.

" _...so I guess pasta Carbonara would do. I shouldn't be long. Do you mind cooking in the meantime?"_

She wasn't doing well back then, but took care of me anyway. In exchange, she just wanted me to cook a bit. Stay and share her comfort food with her. So she, in turn, could confess how miserable and lost she felt. She, in turn, could cry on my shoulder. She, in turn, ask me to help her find the way again.

How I wished she had just said so. I would have stayed. And she wouldn't have replaced me with him.

"I've been thinking a lot about Italian history recently," I heard Eva say to him. "How happy they must have been to unite at last."

"Definitely. Family is important."

"Right?! I mean, friends drift away, lovers break up, but sisters and brothers… that's the most precious thing in the world, the biggest privilege. That's _forever_."

Litva nodded and went ahead to open the door for her. She turned back, as if making sure they hadn't forgotten anything. And then, I would have sworn she winked at me. I blushed and hid better.

They had barely made three steps out of the restaurant when, in a flash, a Vespa went riding onto the sidewalk right towards Eva, throwing me into cold sweat. If Toris hadn't yanked her backwards, there would have been more than just one broken bone.

"Alright, honey?" He quickly looked her over, then hugged her. She laughed, said she was okay and that they should get going, But he had no such intention. Reassured she wasn't hurt, he rushed over to the biker. At first, he talked to him in that calm and creepy way the Godfathers do and, in absence of effect, he just grabbed his collar and shook all the drunkenness and cheek out of him.

"And now you're going to apologize to the lady!"

I was almost sorry for the guy. He looked like he wanted to curl up in a corner and swing to and fro for a day or two. And, in a flash, something warm and sweet filled my core, slowly flowing into every last bit of my existence.

' _I'll always stand by her side. Love her for whom she is. Strive to satisfy her in every way possible.'_

Works, not words are the proofs of love. I was thankful to be there that evening to witness his.

He stood by _her_ , not by the one who almost hurt her. Only talked to her in a gentle and respectful way, even when he didn't agree with her. And as for the satisfaction… Women are impossible to satisfy. But this one's aura was burning brighter than ever before, lighting up the darkened street like a dazzling star.

When asked, I would say there was no God in my life. And nobody ever thought of asking whether there was a Goddess.

People pray for those they love. But who do you pray to when it's the Goddess you love? You don't. Instead, you build and destroy, fight against the odds, throw yourself on the ground to fill in for the missing steps on the stairway of Her life.

The thing is, people rarely understand what their gods might _really_ be after. Which steps they want you to fill in and which ones might be missing for a good purpose. So they can be stumbled upon. So they can send you into another, better direction.

She turned out alright.

Not just thanks to me. Also despite me.

Perhaps because, these last two decades, it wasn't just _me_ watching over her.

Many, _many_ things suddenly started to make sense.

Most importantly of all, at last, I understood when I did her wrong. Moscow, 1989. I shouldn't have separated them. That's how I failed to make the two of us happy. The three of us, actually. I didn't intend to make him miserable, either.

But now, he was happy.

 _She_ was happy.

Therefore, so was I.

Even more so because I mattered to her. According to her own words, I was more important to her than anyone. _Anyone_. Even him.

Earlier, as she called me brother in front of her lover, I thought she was just trying to get back at me. Punish me for every time I hadn't been there for her. Especially for that damned night in 1992 when I introduced her to my one night stands as my sister, thus deciding the nature of our relationship once and for all. I couldn't believe how much I'd misjudged her. Yet again.

She didn't attempt to hurt me. She wasn't like that - quite the contrary. Calling me brother was her way of saying that, no matter what, she _loved_ me. Prayed for me. And would not give me up for anything in the world.

Me and her - that was forever.

As she crouched to tie her shoelaces, I grabbed my phone and texted him.

' _About that dancing in front of the whole Europe in your underwear. Make it sparkly and we've got a deal.'_

He read the message, raised an eyebrow, grinned a tad and instantly replied.

' _OK.'_

In the meantime, the _pizzaïolo_ , who must have witnessed the earlier events from the kitchen window, reappeared next to me.

" _Mamma mia!_ Now that was something! What a man! Do you know him?"

"Sure do." I turned to look at him, all smiles. "He's my future brother-in-law."

* * *

 **Prague, 2010**

Happiness is a sunny garden. With lots of cold beer. And the right company.

Eva and Toris came over for a drink, followed by a dinner with some other guys. I was cooking. The next day, the rest of the EU would join us and we would have a giant picnic.

"You know," she started after we clinked glasses. Litva was a few meters away, scanning the cherry tree for ripe fruit and popping it into his mouth. "I get you. But with time, I realized we'd always be ruled over, openly or not. And this is so much better than the Empire, the Third Reich or being a Russian satellite. Imagine that I, or the two of us, step out of the Union. Even if we merged into one state again, with only Ukraine as a buffer zone, we would quickly be at Ivan's mercy again. Or at Alfred's, for protection."

I'd never had the time to suggest we merge (a good thing, too) and her mentioning it now was a pure coincidence. I totally agreed, though. It would never have worked out, whether on the outside or the inside.

"On the other hand, if you figure the Union is not for you, you can leave it. You'll manage. And you'll have me, Austria and Poland - three EU members - as a buffer zone."

Because my boss got it right - Eva was boiling water to me. Except I was no egg, neither a potato. I was pasta. She'd always brought the best out of me, but knew to step away at the right moment so I would not turn both of us into mush. She kept me _al dente._

(Yes, I finally found out what it meant!)

"We can't foresee all the consequences. You know, I was so terrified a year ago. Of losing a boyfriend and a prospect of Commonwealth membership. So much so I completely forgot about whom I actually was. And when I lost both, I realized I didn't care that much anyway. So let's embrace whom we are and do not go against ourselves. It never works out anyway."

Before I could revert, the doorbell rang.

"That must be Feliks!" She sprang up. "I'll go get him. Oh, by the way." She leaned closer to my ear. "I _hate_ Céline Dion." I grinned and she pecked my cheek.

As soon as she disappeared, Litva came over and sat down next to me. He seemed to understand we wanted some privacy earlier. That we had something he wasn't a part of.

The Commonwealth. In hindsight, I didn't think she would ever have fitted in. Luckily Canada was a man. And we men turn into such cowards and jerks when we fall for another woman.

" _You_ won't hurt her, will you?" I asked without looking at him.

"Never."

"If you break her heart, I'll break your limbs."

"That sounds fair."

I was positive he would never make her suffer. I knew it that night back in Venice. Ever since then, I could feel the backpack full of angst, the one I'd put on the second I met her, slide down my shoulders. I only needed to raise a point - to prove myself I wasn't powerless. Exactly like with the Lisbon Treaty. It was bound to happen sooner or later and could have been much worse, but I hated it simply out of principle. Later, once I realized signing it couldn't be put off anymore, I quickly negotiated some kind of exception for myself, one of which usefulness I couldn't even explain. To prove myself I wasn't powerless.

I turned to face him.

"It will be alright, won't it? I mean, for a while, the Westerners will keep spitting on us. Then, slowly but surely, it'll get better."

"Well said." He smiled.

"People are travelling more now. They're seeing new things, hearing new ideas. Growing more open, crushing stereotypes. And mingling. Little by little, the borders are disappearing."

"Like in that nice sculpture of yours. Entropa, isn't it?"

My heart jumped.

"Nice?! You... mean it? You _like_ it?"

"Sure. At last, somebody did something interesting." He shrugged happily. I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the barn where I kept the blueprint, then unrolled it and made him look at it.

"You… _understand_ it?"

"Yes. It's hilarious, yet deep. Gives me hope."

I almost started to cry.

"You… _sure_ you don't hate it?!"

A chuckle filled the tiny room.

"You depicted me as three little guys peeing on Ivan's place. How could I _not_ love it?!"

And he just laughed again as I hugged the hell out of him.

* * *

 _(A/N: Eastern European Funk by Inculto is a Lithuanian entry for Eurovision 2010. If you've never watched it before, do. It's totally worth it :) )_

* * *

Half an hour later, Feliks received a call from the airport, saying that his luggage wasn't lost after all. Since the three of us had already had a drink, Toris volunteered to go get it. He'd pick up Erzi and Roderich at the same time.

Eva giggled and reached out over Feliks to wipe off my foam mustache. The blond poked her between the ribs. She squealed and as she tried to return the tickle, my phone beeped.

 _'Almost forgot. Chanel 3. Now. TL'_

I reached out for the remote, but my hand ended up in a bowl full of pickles instead. I retreated so quickly it propelled a pickle towards the TV and turned it on. As it fell back, Eva grabbed it and happily bit into it.

"I totally fogof! Eurovifion'f on tonife!" she yelped with a full mouth, green eyes filling with stars as her beloved appeared on the stage to start his show.

 _'...Survived the reds and two world wars!...'_

The tune was catchy and lyrics easy to relate. Kinda what we'd been talking about earlier.

 _'...Get up and dance!'_

Eva and Feliks didn't need to be asked twice. A second later, they were on the table, flawlessly reproducing the choreography which they had already seen live. I hadn't participated that year.

 _'...dance to our Eastern European kind of...'_

Suddenly, everything goes dark. Next thing you know, a pair of trousers is flying through the air and... Spank me with a shovel and throw me to crocodiles, he did it! HE ACTUALLY DID IT! And his underwear is more sparkly than Edward Cullen's ass.

"Those are _my_ boxers!" Feliks yelled.

"Are you suggesting you know that guy?" Grinning Eva pointed at the TV.

"God, no. What a character. Wouldn't wanna be his girlfriend!" He rolled his eyes.

"Not even his ex!" she laughed back.

 _'...Get up and dance!'_

 _'...Get up and dance!'_

I jumped onto the table to join them.

 _'...Get up and dance to our Eastern European kind of funk!'_

I know I'm twenty years late, but... Welcome to my crazy family, Litva.

* * *

-THE END-


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